


Dead Man Walkin'

by GutterBall



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Canon with a twist, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Burn, Snark, bad language, that means the dead people are dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:44:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3497165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/pseuds/GutterBall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before leaving Australia, Chuck volunteered for a top-secret experiment combining cloning tech with Drift tech in the hopes of recreating a whole person down to the last memory. Herc didn't approve, but he didn't stand in the way, either. Knowing full well he would die in Pitfall the minute he realized he was paired with Pentecost, Chuck threw a monkey wrench into the experiment by doing a separate, non-sanctioned memory download.</p>
<p>The problem? He lied in the Drift. To his clone. About Raleigh.</p>
<p>Be warned, folks: here there be angst. That Chuck Hansen dies just like the movie, although it's offscreen. The story takes place six months later when the clone is ready to be unleashed upon the unsuspecting few still living in the Shatterdome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was trying, as usual, to think of a way to get Chuck back for the sequel. This idea popped in there. And then smut happened. Funny how that works, innit?

_If I could stand beside myself, would I see me or someone else?_

_\- Styx_

 

\--

 

"Raleigh, I trust you. I need your opinion."

One look, and Raleigh knew Herc Hansen was drowning inside. With an internal wince, he acknowledged that he only recognized that hollow-eyed, near-panicked look because it had been on his own face for months -- _years_ \-- after Yancy was torn away from him. It was the look of a man who'd lost a piece of himself so vital and integral that he didn't even know how it could be gone.

Only six months since Pitfall. Sometimes, it seemed like a million years ago. Sometimes, it felt like yesterday.

Putting aside his book, he scooted up and over to sit on the edge of his cot. "What can I do for you, sir?" At Herc's pained grimace, Raleigh couldn't help but grin a little. "Sorry. Herc."

"Better. Can I borrow you for a minute?"

He shrugged and shoved to his feet. He knew Herc was insanely busy trying to keep the jaeger program out of UN hands and retain autonomy over all the jaeger tech left. Mako was neck-deep in wrangling at least one jaeger rebuild on what was left in the PPDC's coffers after Stacker's Last Stand, but Herc had the harder fight by far. Before, he'd only had to be the gruff back-up to Pentecost's smooth professionalism. Now, Marshal Hansen had to be the smooth professional, and without Chuck, who would have been the best gruff back-up in the world with that patented scowl.

But Raleigh? Hell, all Raleigh had at the moment was downtime. He was a jaeger pilot without a jaeger, a construction jock without a construction site. Plus, Herc had put him on medical leave, thanks to a troubling brain scan after that second stint piloting solo.

He didn't want to think about that. About the dark spots that could be--

It was almost a relief to follow Herc from the room.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy."

Quirking a little grin, Raleigh shot Herc a thoughtful look. "Considering everything you've been through, I'd be worried if you _weren't_ a little crazy."

It was Herc's turn to grin. "I probably shouldn't find that as comforting as I do." The grin died. "I just... I think I know what I should do, but I want to make sure I'm not just doing it because I want to."

His own expression sobered. "Sir, Herc... what exactly are we talking about here?"

The marshal sighed, sounding weary to the bone. "You'll see."

No more small talk as they walked further into the Shatterdome, then took a flight of stairs down to a level Raleigh hadn't even known existed. He wanted to ask where they were going, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. Instead of wasting time being curious, he figured he'd better put his slightly spotty brain to good use and study the man who had become marshal in such spectacular (and unwanted) fashion.

Herc had looked better. The kaiju war had taken everyone Herc ever loved, leaving only a few strays that he was fond of -- Mako and Tendo moreso than Raleigh, and Raleigh was a big enough man to admit it -- and a mission he was too stubborn to give up on. The toll showed in the deeper lines cutting through Herc's forehead and down from his nose to frame a mouth that didn't bother smiling much anymore. It showed in the darker blue of the eyes and the way Herc sometimes rubbed at an arm that had healed but still seemed to ache more when Herc was stressed. In the slump of those broad shoulders that had carried such a heavy load for so damn long.

Was still carrying it.

Before Raleigh could get good and depressed on the marshal's behalf or do something stupid like try to offer sympathy, at which he was terrible, or give advice that would sound like hollow platitudes even coming from someone who personally understood that kind of loss, Herc stopped in front of an unmarked, unremarkable door. He paused, hand on the handle, that heavy frame going stiff and tense.

Not quite meeting Raleigh's eye, Herc sighed. "Before we go in there, I want you to... no. I _need_ you to know that this wasn't my idea. I thought it was a shit plan to begin with and only agreed because... I don't even know, really." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not even sure if that's true. I just... I can't make this decision on my own, mate."

Fidgeting and uncomfortable now, Raleigh couldn't help but let his mind race. What could possibly be behind this door that could cause a man so tough Australia herself couldn't break him to doubt himself so fully? "Marshal, are you sure you wouldn't rather ask Mako--"

"I know what Mako would say." Herc swallowed hard. "Sorry, I just... I need someone from... another perspective."

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then realized he had no idea how to respond to that. He was completely lost at this point and was, again, man enough to admit it. "Herc, you're starting to freak me out. Just show me already. It can't be as bad as you're building it up to be."

With a short, hard nod, the marshal hauled open the door and led the way inside. The room looked, at first glance, like an overly large janitor's closet, but a second, longer look stole Raleigh's breath. It wasn't any kind of closet at all. It was a small lab room made smaller still by all the machinery crowded into it. The heart of all that machinery was what looked to be a modified escape pod, sealed and stood on end to tilt back against the far wall.

And inside that oddly coffin-shaped metal bubble was Chuck Hansen.


	2. Chapter 2

When he could form coherent thoughts again, Raleigh told himself he could be forgiven for sitting down on the floor hard enough to almost be called a fall instead of a conscious movement. He couldn't, however, be forgiven for blurting the first thing that popped into his head.

"Jesus, Herc. They said Striker Eureka didn't have escape pods."

He knew the second the words left his mouth that they were the wrong ones, but he couldn't take them back. Still, he felt like a real asshole when Herc's shoulders slumped that much further, as if Raleigh had personally slung another weight over them.

"Striker had one escape pod, but it never engaged." The marshal swallowed hard. "Chuck would have never left his copilot, even if Stacker had ordered him to. Anymore than he would have left me."

Well. That wasn't the answer he expected. Blinking and feeling as brain-damaged as his neural scans showed he might be, he gestured vaguely at the... machinery. "Then who the hell is that?"

"That...." Herc closed his eyes for a moment. "That, Raleigh, is a clone."

Raleigh had personally been transported to another dimension. He'd fought monsters bigger than the dinosaurs. He'd piloted a giant robot to which he was neurologically attached. He had shared mind space with not one but two separate people. He was no stranger to things that would have been labelled science fiction in his childhood.

But... a clone?

He didn't have the words to protest. He could only grunt.

Thankfully, Herc seemed to understand. "The technology has existed for decades, of course, but it wasn't until Drift technology made it possible to scan and share neural activity that anyone seriously considered the possibility of making an exact copy of a grown, fully functioning person."

He knew that if he weren't so stymied by the shock of seeing a living, breathing -- though currently unconscious -- Chuck Hansen and the idea that this wasn't really Chuck Hansen after all, he could probably make sense of what Herc was explaining to him. Unfortunately, he just couldn't make the cognitive leaps right now.

"It was Geiszler, of course. The little bastard figured out that the kaiju were clones before anyone else even considered it, and he already had the idea of Drifting with one in hopes of learning more about them and their mission. Somehow, he went from the concept of Drifting with a kaiju clone to wondering if we now had a means of downloading someone's entire personality into a blank slate copy of that person."

Huh.

Well.

"With jaeger pilots dropping left and right, Geiszler contacted Dr. Lightcap with the possibility before Pentecost recruited him to come to Hong Kong. Lightcap contacted Chuck and I when we were decommissioned to make the offer. I said hell no, but Chuck...." Herc huffed something that was probably intended as a laugh but fell infinitely short of the mark. "Of course Chuck volunteered. The clone was already in the accelerated growth process when our whole operation was shipped here to Hong Kong."

Finally, he found his words. "It's been here the whole time??"

Thinned lips twisted into a horrible grimace of a smile. "Geiszler helped run the Drift download while you were going through potential Drift partners. Finished up just in time for Chuck to watch you and Mako go at it."

Huh. He remembered that smug look. He'd thought it was just Chuck being a jerk, but maybe....

"The body was only about as developed as a ten-year-old then, but the mind won't know that, and now the body has caught up. In essence, this is Chuck as he was on that day, with all his memories of his life up to that point. No scars, of course, because those aren't genetic, but otherwise...."

A... copy. Not just a clone but a copy. With Chuck's memories and, likely, Chuck's healthy and seemingly instinctual dislike of him intact.

Now _there_ was a thought.

"...Huh."

"Exactly."

They were silent a moment, just watching the clone breathe. It looked... _he_ looked peacefully asleep. Chuck. Sort of.

"Herc... I don't know what to say. Why did you bring me here?"

The marshal lifted his head and squared his shoulders. "He's reached his correct biological age, Raleigh. He has Chuck's memories, Chuck's personality. But... is he Chuck?"

Raleigh had never been a philosopher. "I don't...?"

Frustrated, Herc finally tore his gaze away from the clone of his son to glare at Raleigh. "His _soul_ , dammit. It's time to decide whether to fish or cut bait on this project, and all I can think about is whether or not that thing has my son's soul to go along with my son's body and my son's memories."

Blanching, he was abruptly glad he'd never bothered standing up. That would have put him right back on his ass again.

"I don't know what I believe, mate. I used to think God was real, I guess. Then Angela... and the kaiju... and all that with Scott...." Another hard, painful-looking swallow. "I thought my faith was gone long before Chuck went down to the Breach, but I caught myself praying when I knew they were staying to detonate the bomb. Even knowing this thing was down here, I prayed that my boy, my arsehole of a pain in the arse son, would be spared. Would come back to me."

His fists were clenched so tight that Raleigh wouldn't be surprised if the marshal was cutting into his own palms.

"It didn't happen." A sound escaped that clenched jaw, the tight throat. "Or did it? Was this the plan the whole time?"

There was literally no way to answer any of those questions. Raleigh had never had much faith to begin with, and any he might have had was ripped out of him with Yancy's consciousness. He hadn't seen a tunnel or any divine light or the face of God in that brief moment where he'd been clinically dead in his escape pod, either.

Did he believe in the soul? Did memories and DNA make the man? Was someone like Chuck Hansen more than the sum of his life experiences, or was a human life simply a blueprint from which the same monument could be built over and over again, given the right tools?

"Raleigh...." Herc's voice was as wrecked as if he'd spent the six months since Pitfall screaming. Hell, maybe he had. "I don't think I can bear it if it's not really him. But I don't know if I can bear it if he is, either."

Which was why the marshal wanted a second opinion. And, now that Raleigh finally understood what he was doing here, he also knew why the marshal wanted his opinion specifically. Mako would have unequivocally said yes. The pair had, for all intents and purposes, grown up together, though they'd drifted apart over the years. But Herc knew that Raleigh, who hadn't had the best relationship with Chuck, wouldn't be blinded to logic by sentiment.

It made sense.

It also sucked. _Hard_.

He couldn't possibly make that kind of decision or even sway Herc either direction. He had only barely known Chuck, and that just enough to grudgingly respect the kid's tenacity and skill and to even more grudgingly admit that, if not for the attitude, they might have been friends if given more time. Maybe a hundred years or so.

No. Raleigh Becket couldn't make that kind of decision. Luckily, it occurred to him that someone else already had. He just had to make Herc see that.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he finally shoved to his feet and squared his shoulders. "Herc, you know I can't tell you what to do here." He held up a hand to stop the protest before it started. "It's not about Chuck. You're asking me about faith, about the soul, and I don't have any answers for you there. As far as I'm concerned, we're matter, and when we die, we turn back into the energy that created that matter. If that's what people mean when they talk about souls, then fine. But I don't buy it, and you can't base a decision like this on fairy tales and daydreams."

Herc's jaw clenched so tight Raleigh began to worry about his teeth. Taking another deep breath, he stepped closer and put a hand on the marshal's shoulder, not surprised to find the muscle there rock-hard and bunched as if ready for a fight.

"Luckily, you don't have to."

Glaring blue eyes met his own, but Raleigh didn't back down.

"Marshal... _Herc_... what did Chuck want?" Because it was obvious as hell to Raleigh. "He volunteered, right? He willingly offered to Drift with a blank slate to give it as much of himself as science allows."

A thrum ran through Herc's tense frame and another pained, wrenched sound squeezed out of the straining throat.

"You know what Chuck wanted, Herc." He squeeze his hand gently. "As much as he acted like a kid, he was an adult and fully capable of making his own decisions."

It took a few minutes, but slowly, Herc willed himself to unwind. "I'll get medical down here to move him up to the med lab. It'll take a few hours for the stasis meds to wear off."

"Okay. Good." Now that the decision was made, he wasn't sure what came next. "Do you need me to do anything?"

Herc met his eyes again, but this time, there was no glare in all that blue. "Would you mind sitting in with me?"

Raleigh's eyebrows rose.

"Knowing what Chuck wanted doesn't mean I know how to face him after six months of mourning him."

Ah. "Hadn't thought of that. Will he...." He paused, not sure if it was an insensitive question or not. After a moment, he mentally shrugged. There was no established etiquette for this situation, and Herc knew he meant no disrespect. "Will he know he's a clone? Or will he think he's Chuck?"

Herc wiped a shaking hand over his face and sighed. "I have no idea. I think... he'll know? If he drifted with him, he knows what Chuck knew, right? We both know you _can_ hide things in the Drift if the other person doesn't go looking, but... something that big? The whole purpose of the exercise?"

Surprisingly, Raleigh found himself grinning. "I guess this'll be one helluva wake-up call, then."

To his very great relief, Marshal Hercules Hansen smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chuck Hansen, of a sort, lay on a narrow cot in the medical bay, and watching him sleep was... surreal. It made Raleigh's mind feel as it had when he'd tried to look at that other world on the other side of the Breach. As if everything had the wrong colors, the wrong shape, the wrong _dimensions_.

It was Chuck. Sandy ginger hair. Freckles. Bulky frame. The hint of those damn dimples that someone so angry should never have access to.

It _was_ Chuck. But Chuck was six months dead, and this was... something else. And his mind just didn't want to wrap around it.

What would happen when the clone woke up?

Herc, a long time military man, dozed off not five minutes after sitting down in a chair, his head cocked back at a painful-looking angle. Even gently settling a pillow behind his head hadn't changed either the heavy sleep or the painful crook to the neck, but Raleigh didn't have the heart to wake the poor man up, even just to suggest he change positions. Something told him Herc hadn't gotten much sleep the past six months.

Hell, maybe the past ten years.

Dr. Geiszler even ducked in once to take a few bio-readings, but the hyper little scientist really wasn't that kind of doctor. Raleigh was pretty sure it was more curiosity than protocol that brought Newt on the run. Curiosity and a vested interest in how his little experiment would turn out.

In other words, the clone was basically useless to Geiszler until it woke up and started behaving. Or maybe Raleigh was being too harsh on the good doctor.

"Ray?"

His eyes jerked away from Herc and fixed on the clone, who was looking at him with wide eyes and... was that... the beginning of a grin?

"Ray! Did we--" Burgeoning excitement cut off as those wide eyes noticed Herc, who sat up at the sound of that achingly familiar voice and accent. "Dad? Did we do it? Did we close the Breach?"

The clone inched his hand across the bed, not quite reaching out to Herc but as close as the real Chuck would have ever come to doing so. He looked... concerned? even hurt?... when Herc didn't immediately reach over and take that hand.

Something felt wrong here. Wrong and getting more wrong by the second.

"Dad? Oh, God, did we fuck it up?" Clone Chuck struggled to sit up, tugging at the leads going in and out of his hospital johnny and even going so far as to reach for the IV needle before Herc held up a hand to stop him. "Please, guys, tell me it's over. You're starting to freak me out."

Herc's face was tight, his eyes wincing around the edges. "What's the last thing you remember?"

The clone's eyes widened further. "I don't...." He looked down at himself, patted at his legs to make sure they were still there under the blanket, at his stomach through the johnny. "Am I... is something wrong with me? Why are you both looking at me like that?"

Wincing himself, Raleigh tried to look away, but the only other thing of interest in the room was Herc, and it was simply too painful to look at the marshal right now. If the man's jaw clenched any tighter, it would shatter.

"Just tell me, Ch--" Herc swallowed hard. "What's the last thing you remember?"

And there it was. A hint of irritated frustration crept into the growing panic in Clone Chuck's eyes, making him look more like Chuck than ever.

Raleigh would recognize that ready-to-be-pissy expression anywhere.

"I... remember Pentecost giving his speech. Knowing I had to suit up and wanting to pull you aside to... say some things... before I...." The clone swallowed hard and jerked his eyes away from Herc, only to fix them on Raleigh with an expression he simply couldn't read. "Before I deployed. With Pentecost."

It was easy to tear his eyes away this time. Unfortunately, Herc had, too, and their eyes caught and clung. Raleigh had no trouble reading the dismay in the marshal's eyes. He doubted Herc had any trouble reading the same in his.

This... was not good.

"Dad, tell me what the hell is going on. Ray... mate, c'mon. You're looking at me like... I don't even know. Like you're... scared of me. Like I'm some kind of freak."

What the hell was he supposed to do? Herc looked a facial twitch away from falling apart at the seams, and Clone Chuck looked... scared and hurt and pissed off and about fifteen years old with all the turmoil. This was a nightmare.

The clone should know. How could the clone not know? Why the hell would Chuck keep that from a version of himself? And how?

"Am I... am I dying? Guys?" More anger bled in, but also more terror. "Will someone bloody well say something??"

There was no protocol here. No precedent for how to tell a fully-functioning clone that it wasn't the person it thought it was.

"Ray?"

God, those eyes. He hadn't particularly seen the real Chuck look anything but smug and/or furious, but that _look_. That tormented, pissed-off-and-scared-to-death _look_.

"Jesus, can't I even get  a kiss before you tell me what the fuck is wrong with me?"

He blinked. What the...?

Against his will, his eyes tracked over to Herc, only to find the good marshal looking at him with both wide-eyed confusion and the beginnings of... suspicion? Growing anger? He hadn't seen that ready-to-kill-you-for-despoiling-my-daughter look in a very long time.

His mouth worked, but not well. "I... Herc, I didn't... I don't...."

"Oi! The fuck is that look about? What the fuck is going on here?" When neither Herc nor Raleigh could manage words, the clone slammed his fist down on the cot, pulling his IV half out with the gesture and obviously not giving one single sliver of a fuck about the spurt of blood up his arm. "Somebody better answer me right the fuck now!"

At the sight of blood, Raleigh felt some part of his brain come back. He jerked to his feet and snatched up a hand towel from a nearby tray. When he was close enough, the clone grabbed his arm, but he ignored the grip and carefully peeled away the tape and pulled the needle all the way out, immediately covering the wound with the towel and applying pressure.

"Ray, tell me what's happening. Why are you acting like this?"

That... wasn't a tone Chuck Hansen had ever used with Raleigh Becket. The clone sounded... quiet. Familiar. Almost intimate, even. The grip on Raleigh's arm wasn't punishing, like an angry Chuck's would have been. It was comfortable. _Familiar_. As if he'd reached out and taken gentle hold of Raleigh's arm a hundred times.

Astonished, he stared at Clone Chuck from as close as he'd been to the real Chuck during their brawl and wondered just what the hell Chuck had done. This clone shouldn't know about Pentecost's speech or suiting up before Pitfall. Unless Herc was greatly mistaken, this Chuck shouldn't even be sure Pitfall had happened at all. If his memories had been downloaded while Raleigh was doing compatibility trials, he probably would have punched him by now. That Chuck had still hated him with all the self-righteous fury of ignorant youth.

"Ray?"

He swallowed hard, and the clone's eyes dropped to track the movement of his throat before returning that too-much gaze to Raleigh's own. "My name's Raleigh."

A hint of that accursed left dimple showed as Clone Chuck's mouth quirked awfully close to a grin. "Thought we were past that, mate."

And then, to Raleigh's appalled amazement, the damn clone actually tried to kiss him. More shocked than he'd ever admit, he jerked away, dropping the towel to the floor and conveniently yanking his arm out of Clone Chuck's loose grip. His heart pounded, sending a flush of blood up to heat his face. He could only imagine how red his cheeks were, and he did everything in his power to avoid Herc's gaze.

"The fuck, _Raaaa_ leigh? You act like last night never happened!"

Herc uttered something between a choke and a grunt. Raleigh could only stare, jaw-dropped and face burning.

It didn't help that the clone's face was red, too, with both embarrassment and bluster. "Or... was it not last night? How long have I been out?"

Sweating with the force of his blush, he finally dared a quick glance at the marshal and was not encouraged by the weather there. "I swear to God, Herc, I never touched him. Hell, he never touched _me!_ I didn't even get a fucking _handshake_ before Pitfall!"

"Oi!"

Whatever Herc had been about to yell stopped cold at Clone Chuck's furious holler. As one, Herc and Raleigh turned to stare. Scowling and now deadly pale except for the hectic flares of color in his cheeks, the clone scooted off the cot and bent down to snatch up the fallen towel, pressing it to the IV site. Belatedly, Raleigh realized blood had dripped down his hand and onto the floor. A lot of blood.

"I know I said I didn't want to tell Dad unless we both lived through the bomb run, but that's taking it a bit far, Ray. Besides, it looks like we both lived, so kindly stop acting like the jock what's caught taking the prom queen's virginity."

And with that, Raleigh's knees decided to stop working, and he sat down hard on the floor for the second time in one day, clapping a hand to his forehead and dragging it down over his face to cover his mouth. If Chuck Fucking Hansen wasn't already dead, Raleigh would be tempted to kill him himself.

Was all of this some kind of sick joke?

After a long, quiet moment, Herc sat down beside him on the floor, the movement much more controlled than Raleigh's. Oddly enough, the clone quit spewing ridiculousness and sat down, too, tucking the flap-backed hospital johnny under his bare ass as well as possible with just the one hand. When he was apparently comfortable, he clamped his free hand over the towel and applied pressure to the still-bleeding IV site, his face paler as his blush faded. The freckles on his cheeks were entirely too vivid with his pallor.

In a much quieter voice, he tried again. "Will someone please tell me what's going on? Ray... _Raleigh_ looks like I just accused him of raping me, and Dad, you look like...." He tapered off and suddenly looked weary beyond belief. "Please?"

Finally, oh finally, Herc sighed. "Like someone died. Is that what you were about to say?"

No response.

"My son always was too smart for his own good."

Still no response. Well, maybe a tightening of that hard jaw.

This time, Herc's sigh seemed to come from the depths of his soul. "Chuck Hansen died in the course of duty during Operation Pitfall six months ago."

The clone's right eye twitched.

"He and Stacker Pentecost fought a Category V kaiju to a standstill, but Striker was damaged beyond ability to drop the nuke, so they agreed to draw the two remaining kaiju in and detonate in hopes of clearing the way for Gipsy to drop into the Breach and self-detonate there."

It was a dry recitation, but it still hurt something deep in Raleigh's chest. Maybe it was the desolation in Herc's eyes as he stated the bare facts as calmly as possible. Maybe it was the building rebellion and terror roiling in the clone's eyes as he geared up for a truly epic Chuck Hansen temper tantrum.

So familiar. Dammit.

"The mission was successful in that the Breach was closed, but both Chuck and Stacker died." The marshal shot him the briefest glance. "As did Raleigh, but only for a minute or two."

Clone Chuck's throat convulsed in a painful-looking swallow. Herc went on, apparently determined to get the whole thing out while the clone was willing to listen.

"Before we were decommissioned back home, Chuck was approached about an experiment being conducted by Dr. Lightcap and Dr. Geiszler." Pausing, Herc dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap, then forced himself to look the clone right in the eyes. "A cloning experiment."

As perhaps expected, Clone Chuck shoved to his feet, fists clenched, bloody towel forgotten on the floor.

The marshal raised one hand. "Please don't."

Gritting his jaw again, the clone froze.

"I have all the data. You can look over it. You can talk to Geiszler and Lightcap. I wouldn't lie to you." Again, Herc's head lowered, his shoulders slumping. This time, he didn't look up. "I wouldn't, but it looks like Chuck did, though I'll be damned if I know how. Or why."

A lengthy silence fell between them all, and Raleigh wondered if he should just get up and leave. He was completely out of his depth. A few hours ago, all he'd been thinking about was catching up on ten years' worth of reading and how much he dreaded the scheduled scans next week to see if the dark spots on his brain had expanded or, just maybe, receded. Now, a clone of the man who'd picked the equivalent of a bar fight outside Pentecost's office had just tried to kiss him and was apparently under the impression that they'd had an undefined level of physical intimacy the night before Pitfall and Raleigh refused to finish that thought.

Luckily, he couldn't have even if he wanted to.

"Dad...."

Herc winced. Clone Chuck paled further, swallowed hard, and tried again.

"You're... you're saying I'm... not me?"

God, this was painful. Raleigh may have only been grudging allies with Chuck, but he was genuinely fond of Herc, and he could feel the misery spilling off the marshal in sickening waves.

"Chu--" Another sigh. "I'm saying that you're a clone of my son, with all of my son's memories and personality downloaded via the Drift. Apparently up to right before the drop for Pitfall."

The clone stood there, thrumming with entirely too many emotions to identify, and Raleigh couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how a man like Chuck Hansen would have taken a story this crazy.

And this was, for all intents and purposes, Chuck Hansen.

Who was staring at him now, instead of his father.

"And... Raleigh?"

His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. All he could do was shake his head.

The clone slumped and wiped a shaking hand over his face, then sank down onto the cot. "Please....

Raleigh closed his eyes. The clone... Chuck... sounded small. Like a frightened child.

"Dad... please tell me this is all... just a nightmare...?"

Wet-eyed and swallowing hard, Herc looked at the image of his son for a long, agonizing moment. Then, he stood, stepped closer, and picked up the towel. Without a word, he sat at the clone's left side, took the still-bleeding wrist carefully in hand, and pressed the towel over the wound.

Blinking furiously and gritting his teeth together, Chuck tried to be strong, but it was a losing battle. His Adam's apple hitched on the first choked-back sob, and he leaned over to rest his forehead on the marshal's shoulder. Herc, his own Adam's apple hitching repeatedly, closed his eyes and let his head fall to lean against Chuck's.

As quietly as he could, Raleigh left them alone. They... had a lot of catching up to do.

He would only be in the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Raleigh heard nothing more about cloning or about Chuck Hansen for two days. He didn't know what to think about that, and his curiosity had run the gamut between "none of my business" and "My God, just tell me _something!_ ", but he'd kept his distance, both out of respect for the Hansens' privacy and out of... embarrassment? Because for some reason, the real Chuck had conned Clone Chuck into believing he and Raleigh had... a thing?

Definitely embarrassment.

Why would the real Chuck do such a thing? It might have been classified as a joke if he'd let the clone know about the whole cloning thing. A tasteless, even cruel joke on them both, but at least recognizable as such. But to make a copy of himself unaware of that crucial fact _and_ make him believe in a relationship that had never existed and that surely even Chuck knew Raleigh would reject out of hand?

Inconceivable.

Admittedly, it wasn't like Raleigh had known the real Chuck enough to guess at his motivations, but somehow, he just didn't believe that a man willing to give up his life for a world he hadn't had much patience for would do that to... well, to himself.

"Raleigh?"

Despite his preoccupation, he felt a grin take his face as he turned from his bunk toward hers. Mako just had that effect on him. The grin slipped a little when she jumped down from her stoop, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him back up the steps on the run.

"Mako, what--?"

"Come see."

Said as if he would refuse her anything she could ask of him. He didn't resist as she pulled him inside and shut the door rather noisily behind him.

"Sit. You have to see this. They've been showing it all day."

He sat on the edge of her bunk as she tapped on her console screen. A news feed scrolled by on the bottom, but Raleigh found his wandering attention fixated at last. Marshal Hansen stood in full dress blues before a podium, camera lights everywhere, Tendo at his back. They both looked... grim? Or just very, very serious.

 "I called this press conference for the best possible reason. My son, Chuck, has returned to us."

Raleigh's eyebrows shot up as the gathered press erupted in questions. He hadn't considered the wider ramifications of a Chuck Hansen running around after being dead for six months, but it made sense that some story would have to be concocted to explain it. They could hardly keep the poor guy prisoner in the Shatterdome. Or expect the remaining skeleton crew to keep their mouths shut about the miraculous reappearance of a long-dead hero.

Or, for that matter, reveal that Chuck was a clone at all. God, the UN would have a field day both villainizing the technology and scrambling in an attempt to proprietize it.

The marshal raised his hands for quiet, and the press slowly complied. "If you please." The stragglers quieted down. "He has been in a coma since we found his severely damaged escape pod a week after Operation Pitfall. We had no reason beyond simple hope to believe he would survive, let alone that he would ever wake up. It seemed prudent at the time to let the world continue believing him dead." Herc sighed with genuine emotion. "God knows he probably should have been."

Mako took his hand, her grip strong enough to hurt. Raleigh squeezed back, unsure if he should pretend to be surprised -- which he kind of was, honestly -- or if he should tell her the truth. But what the hell could he even say? He hardly believed the truth himself, and he'd been there when Clone Chuck woke up and started acting like Real Chuck.

"We are asking for privacy at this time while Chuck recovers. This press conference is the only official news that will be released from the Shatterdome. Any rumors or speculation beyond this will be rejected as false. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter."

Again, the press exploded, but Herc simply turned from the podium and walked away, Tendo in tow. After a moment's consideration, Raleigh nodded. That was about the only way Herc could have handled the situation, really. A grab bag of specious truths and generous lies, all said with a hint of the sadness Raleigh had seen just before he walked out of the med bay room and left them alone with their heads together.

"Raleigh, is it true?"

What a question. How was he supposed to answer? Mako deserved better than the "official" story, but the truth wasn't really his to tell, was it?

"Why wouldn't the marshal tell us about this? Or Tendo? How did we not hear about someone finding an escape pod?"

They were all excellent questions. He had no idea how to answer a single one.

"Raleigh?"

Mako had Drifted with him. There was no way to hide from her. She'd see it on his face, even if she didn't just magically know it, like Drift partners sometimes did.

Sure enough, her expression shifted from somewhat wounded curiosity to the laser focus that made her such an excellent jaeger pilot. "You knew?"

He swallowed hard and tried to get away with revealing as little as possible. "I just found out two days ago, when he... woke up."

Her eyes widened, and she punched him lightly on the arm. "And you didn't tell me?"

Trying his best to look sheepish instead of guilty, he rubbed where she'd hit him. He'd barely felt the impact, but it was good for a show, much like the punch had been. "I wasn't sure what I could say. Neither of them were in any shape to make any decisions at the time, and I haven't seen either of them since."

There. Every word was truth. He was actually kind of proud of himself.

Thankfully, she leaned back and sighed. "Then... why didn't the marshal tell me? Or Chuck? I've known him since...."

She looked so sad, so disappointed. Unsure what he could or should say, he could only reach out and gently squeeze her shoulder. Her head lowered, and he abruptly realized she'd let the blue streaks in her hair fade over the past months, and her hair was a little longer. Instead of accentuating the angle of her jaw, the ends brushed her shoulders. Coupled with the expression on her face, she looked almost... fragile.

Mako Mori had never looked fragile. Delicate, yes, but never breakable.

Sighing, he gave her shoulder another squeeze. "Mako, I'm sure if you just talk to Herc, he'll tell you... what you need to know." Maybe she wouldn't notice the hesitation. "I'm sure he has his reasons for keeping this from us for so long."

She lifted her gaze to his and tried a small smile. It didn't look too convincing, but he forced a much better one, which seemed to help. Her shoulders straightened, and she tossed her hair back out of her face.

"I'm still mad at you, Raleigh Becket."

This time, his grin was real. "If this is all you're mad at me for, I'm probably doing something right."

Lo and behold, but she actually chuckled, then bumped her shoulder against his, and everything was alright again. Mako just had that effect on him.

Of course, the minute he was standing in front of his own door, all those other thoughts came back to him, compounded by the fact that, as of right now, he was one of only five people who knew this Chuck Hansen was a clone, including the clone himself. Did that change anything? Did it change everything?

Did Clone Chuck still think they were... an item?

He couldn't stand his room right now. For the last five years, he'd have given anything for a little down time, even as he'd blessed the constant work on the Wall that kept him from the worst of his thoughts and guilt and self-recriminations. Now, though, being stuck on medical leave was beginning to chafe.

Of course, it hadn't chafed two days ago. Other than his increasing anxiety about the upcoming brain scans, he'd had nothing on his mind but how much more reading he could fit into his schedule, what was for dinner, and whether or not he'd actually get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep at night.

Muttering under his breath, he realized he'd been staring at his door for long enough that someone probably should have noticed. No more sitting in his room. If he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, he damn well wanted a change of scenery.

So thinking, he tromped back down the steps and headed for the jaeger bay. With no jaegers left and no approval yet to build more, despite all of Mako's passionate campaigning, the enormous area was a veritable Fortress of Solitude, but no one would keep him out. Or be likely to find him there, should someone come looking.

He headed directly for Gipsy's bay and climbed up to the highest catwalk, then perched on the very edge over the middle of the vast, empty space and let his feet dangle. It was hard to reconcile this echoing silence with the clanging bustle he was far more used to. He supposed it made sense; barely one percent of the PPDC's personnel had remained in the Hong Kong Shatterdome after Pitfall, and only a bare handful of those were jaeger techs. The marshal had granted indefinite leave to anyone who wanted to take it, provided at least some of them agreed to return if and when new jaegers were in the works.

It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't been in the jaeger bay since that day. Since Pitfall. Something about that... bothered him. He just wasn't sure what.

Frowning, he leaned his forearms against the lower railing and slumped a bit. It was so _empty_. Gipsy had occupied so much space, both physically and in his mind and memories. And yet, he hadn't hesitated to drop her into another dimension and blow her up, leaving this bay that had crawled with life and noise and machinery and hope... _empty_.

He wished there was another word for it, but there just wasn't.

"Ray?"

Blinking, he jolted out of his thoughts and wondered how anyone could sneak up on him when any sound should echo like thunder through the jaeger bay. And of course it would be Chuck. Because of course it was.

At his silence, the clone's face tightened. "Sorry. _Raaa_ leigh."

He winced. "If you're gonna keep saying it like that, you can just call me Ray."

And there was the smug he hadn't missed. Though this time, the smug was tempered with the hint of a grin and a flash of those damn dimples.

"Didn't mean to bother you, mate. Just... saw you up here and thought I should...." Chuck gestured vaguely, the dimples fading as his grin fell.

Raleigh raised his eyebrows. Should what? Start another fist fight? Try to kiss him again? Sadly, either option was just as likely. The thought made his lips quirk in an almost-grin.

The effect on the clone was frankly astounding. Chuck's whole face lit up, and he stepped closer. "Look, Ray, I know we're not... we didn't really...." Great. Now _he_ was blushing and clasping his hands behind his back. "But two days ago, you looked at me like you expected me to attack, and again as I walked up, and just now is the first time I've felt like...."

He waited, still sort of grinning. This Chuck was... engaging, if nothing else. And had been a helluva lot nicer to him than the original one. Even at the end, all he'd gotten from that Chuck was a stoic nod of appreciation and a moment where they stood side by side without shoving each other or trading snark.

Fidgeting now and regaining Raleigh's attention, the clone took another step closer, putting him in arm's reach. "I just... I miss you, alright? I know we're not... but can't we at least talk once in a while?" His blush intensified, but that grin still showed off the left dimple. "Or was the other me really that big of an arsehole?"

A surprised laugh coughed out of him. "Actually, he kinda was." But that felt disloyal. The man had, after all, saved the world, and had tried to give up his pique and work with him as a comrade in arms. "He was a good man and a great jaeger pilot -- maybe the best -- but he really didn't like me much and saw no problem making that obvious in every way he could."

Clone Chuck shook his head, looking relaxed for the first time, then gestured at the catwalk grating at Raleigh's side. "Can I?"

"Be my guest." What could it hurt? He hadn't wanted to fight with the original Chuck, so antagonizing this one was pointless. "Be warned, though; your ass won't thank you later."

"Oh, I know." Sitting down with a sigh, the clone looked out over the vast, empty bay. "When I was a kid, I used to climb up into the catwalks every chance I got. The grating's meant for boots, not arses." The good mood dimmed again. "I guess... I guess I never actually did that, though, did I?"

Raleigh had a few choices here. He could make a joke to re-lighten the mood. He could start a fight to take the clone's mind off the subject matter. He could try to hold an intelligent conversation about the metaphysics of reality. He could fuck up royally and ruin this last chance to make Chuck Hansen a friend instead of a foe.

Or he could just be honest. "You're asking the wrong person." Deliberately reaching out to elbow the clone and get his attention, he grinned. "I've been to another dimension, remember? My concept of reality, of whether remembering something makes it real or is a mental lie, is unreliable at best."

For the shortest moment, it seemed Chuck leaned that much closer, but it might have been Raleigh's imagination. Either way, after that moment's brief eye contact and a soft, easy grin that actually made the dimples look natural instead of at odds with such an abrasive personality, the clone looked out over the bay again and braced his forearms on the railing.

"Did you see Dad's speech this morning?"

"I did. Not until afternoon, but yeah."

Chuck nodded. "I don't like lying about it. Especially to people here."

Unfortunately, that was another subject on which he had no useful input. "Is it lying?"

Okay, that was definitely an Original Chuck look. Raleigh fought against a smirk.

"You, of all people, know the answer to that, Ray."

Oh. Right. The whole Chuck-told-the-clone-they-were-a-couple thing.

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry. I just meant...."

"Mate, you won't even say my name."

...Had he not? Had that been an intentional thing? He didn't even know.

"Did you know I don't have any scars?"

Sighing, he nodded.

"I'm not talking about no scars from Pitfall. I mean no scars at all. Not the ones on my left thigh from the feedback when Striker's leg was damn near pulled off. Not the ones on my chest from when one cunt of a kaiju tried to claw out the chest array. Not even the one all the way up the back of my right leg from when Mum took the training wheels off my bike and I tried to race the neighbor kid down a hill."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Raleigh couldn't help but huff a laugh. Of course Chuck Hansen's first bike wreck would be spectacular.

"I just... it's a lie, mate. I'm not that Chuck Hansen, and I never was, and that proves it. I can't even rely on my own memory, no matter how real it seems."

Raleigh winced, knowing the clone wasn't just talking about the missing scars. Hell, just the fact that they were sitting here calmly, talking like people who knew and liked each other, proved that, yes, it was all a lie. The Chuck Hansen the world knew and revered as a fallen-hero-risen-from-the-ashes wasn't the one who had willingly flung himself into the ocean and flipped the switch on a thermonuclear bomb.

But he had to say something. The phoenix Chuck sitting next to him looked as if Max had died while he was gone.

Oh, now _there_ was a thought. Thank God the poor guy was spared that, at least. Although it made him wonder if the dog treated this new Chuck differently from the old one.

He really, really needed to say something. So, he cleared his throat and hoped he wasn't sticking his foot in his mouth. And down his throat.

"If it helps...." He waited until Chuck met his eyes. "If it helps, I'll admit I like you a lot better than I liked him."

The clone's eyes widened almost comically, and Raleigh abruptly realized that those eyes weren't actually blue like Herc's but rather a changeable shade of grey. At the moment, they looked almost green. For some reason, the combination of that realization and the wide-eyed expression made him grin and shrug sheepishly.

"I think this is the longest conversation I've had with Chuck Hansen that didn't end with either a fight or with me being compared to kaiju shit."

After a long, wide-eyed moment, Chuck coughed a laugh and shook his head. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or pissed. Besides, if I remember right -- you'll have to tell me -- you didn't actually do much talking for the one that ended in a fight."

His sheepishness turned into a smirk. "Oh, you definitely remember right. You did more than enough talking for the both of us."

And there was the famous Chuck Hansen smirk. "You are some kind of arsehole, Raleigh Becket."

"See? You _can_ trust your memory."

Strangely, when Chuck hollered a truly Australian "Oi!" and gave him a hefty shove, Raleigh didn't mind a bit.

He did protest the noogie, though. He had standards, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

For some reason, Clone Chuck was convinced that Raleigh was still malnourished and insisted on sitting across from him at meal times, haranguing him to eat everything on his plate and, for the love of God, something besides the jello that looked like it was made from kaiju excretions.

"You do remember that your memories are from six months ago, right?"

"Doesn't matter. You're still too damn skinny. Eat, ya big infant."

"I'm not eating that."

"It's broccoli, for God's sake. It won't kill you."

"It tastes like dirt."

"That's five years of rations talking. That broccoli is slathered in cheese sauce. There is no possible way it tastes like dirt."

"I could tell you you're remembering that wrong. That Chuck just made the rations thing up."

"I could ask Mako. Or Dad."

"...Dammit."

"And stop trying to slip it to Max. The cheese makes him gassy, and believe me, mate; he doesn't need the help, there."

It was... strange. Chuck knew things about him that he'd have sworn the original Chuck couldn't have known, like his preference for the awesome blue jello. When he was surprised by something and asked how the clone could possibly know, there was always some false but wholly detailed memory for it.

"I know for a fact that Chuck never once saw me drinking tea."

"Dunno what to tell ya, Ray. I distinctly remember being restless the night after we fought and walking into the mess hall, only to find you at that table shoved against the back wall, sipping chamomile tea and reading a book. An actual in-the-hand print book."

"What was the book?"

" _The Thin Red Line_."

"Jesus."

"See? I sat down and asked what it was about, and you went off on World War II, and the next thing we knew, it was three in the morning."

"But you weren't there. Or he wasn't. I just sat and read until I almost fell asleep on the bench, then went to bed. Alone, thank you very much."

"Not the way I remember it."

"It seriously creeps me out when you waggle your eyebrows like that."

"Would you rather I waggle them like this?"

"Ugh, stop!"

Had the original Chuck been watching him that night? It seemed like the only logical explanation, but the potential of it boggled Raleigh's mind. If Chuck had been watching, why not say something? Why hadn't that wakeful evening ended up like Clone Chuck remembered it? And why would Original Chuck download the memory that way? Was that maybe how he'd _wished_ it had gone?

What would that mean?

"Oi, Ray, I can tell just by looking at you that you're thinking too hard."

Speak of the devil. Apparently, it still worked even if he was just thinking of the devil.

"Alright, hit me with it, then. What's the drama?"

Raleigh looked up at his former nemesis and tried to grin but didn't quite make it. "No drama. Just thinking."

"Not buying it, mate. You don't come up here unless you're fussed about something." _Up here_ being the catwalk where they'd finally started talking three days ago. Grinning enough to show that damn dimple, Chuck sat down beside him and let his legs kick freely. "So lay it on me."

Bad idea.

"Did you actually like me the whole time?"

That was _not_ an Original Chuck look. Raleigh had come to associate that wide-eyed expression solely with Clone Chuck.

"Come again?"

Blushing a little, he cleared his throat. "I just... not like that. You just... he hated me from, like, the instant he saw me. Probably hated me even before that, honestly."

He liked that the new Chuck had the grace to clear his throat and shift uncomfortably at that.

"So... how did he know stuff about me? Like the tea and the jello and that I'm a bit obsessed with World War II and the like? He sure as hell never asked me."

They sat in silence for a long moment, but it was a strangely comfortable silence. Raleigh simply couldn't imagine feeling comfortable in the original Chuck's presence, but he wasn't complaining about the change. Maybe they could have reached this level of comradery if given time, but frankly, it was hard to imagine.

And yet... here they were, for all intents and purposes.

"I'm not sure what to tell ya, Ray." Chuck shrugged. "I don't honestly know where history stops and my memories swerve off. I remember being pissed when I first saw you because we didn't need a burned out drop-out coward fucking up our final solution."

The clone shot him an apologetic look, but Raleigh waved it away. The original Chuck had said much the same thing and in far less friendly terms. He was used to it.

"I remember being surprised you were able to go toe-to-toe with Mako after five years off doing fuck-all on the Wall. Tried to hide it, though."

He blinked. "Is that what that look was about?"

"What look?"

"That look. After Pentecost said Mako wasn't eligible to be my copilot, even though we were clearly Drift compatible. You looked smug as hell, like you were thrilled that I'd only been compatible with the only person I absolutely could not Drift with."

"Ah. No."

He lifted one eyebrow.

"You were right. I was being an arse about you only being compatible with Mako. I knew Pentecost would never let that happen, and you'd be stuck with some random schmuck, and you'd fail. _Hard_."

Well. Huh. "So... I guess the thought of asking me back to your bunk hadn't occurred to you yet."

He didn't usually bring up that part of Chuck's memory divergence voluntarily, but he wasn't sure what to think about confirmation that the little bastard had been actively rooting for him to fail, even knowing that would put them one jaeger down for Pitfall. Hopefully, a bit of a joke would smooth it over for them both.

Of course, Clone Chuck was still Chuck. The bastard.

"Are you kidding? I'd already jacked off just thinkin about you on your knees." Damn that smirk. " _Twice_."

Instantly burning with the force of a truly epic blush, Raleigh shoved up from the catwalk and tried not to just stomp away. Instead, he forced himself to nudge the jackass with his boot.

"Jerk."

"You asked for it, mate."

Since he kind of had, he really couldn't comment. He also couldn't just walk away. Chuck would just follow, and there was no reason to make things uncomfortable.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

Chuck frowned a bit, then stood up and leaned back against the railing, eyeing him almost warily. "What's really got you up here in the rafters, then?"

Sighing, Raleigh slumped back against the opposite railing and crossed his arms over his chest. Sure, he had been thinking about the how and why and when of Chuck's weird memories, but... he had to admit that he'd been thinking of them to avoid thinking of something else. He couldn't help it. This whole clone thing had turned into a much more interesting distraction than anything else he could think of.

"Out with it, or I'll bring Max up here and hit you with the puppy eyes."

That got a grin, even if just half of one. "God help me."

This time, it was Chuck nudging Raleigh with his boot. "Just tell me, Ray."

Maybe he could. Maybe he even should. If anyone in the world could possibly understand, it was Clone Chuck.

"I have to report to med bay tomorrow morning for a follow-up brain scan."

Chuck's face froze, his whole frame going tense. "Routine?"

His mouth twitched, but that's about as close as he came to a grin. Instead, he just shook his head.

Those changeable grey eyes widened. "Is it serious?"

He couldn't look at those eyes while he said it, so he looked down at his boots, instead. "Herc told you I died briefly during Pitfall."

"...I remember."

"He probably didn't tell you that, either because of that or because of piloting solo again or, hell, even because I clocked time in another dimension that wasn't meant for human life, I have... some...." He swallowed hard, kicking his toe at one of the diamond-shaped holes formed by the grating at his feet. "Some dark spots. On my brain. They're not sure if they're areas of permanent damage or maybe small aneurysms or tumors or lesions or bruising or--"

"Jesus, Ray! Why didn't you tell me?"

He glanced up and felt his chest constrict at the blatant worry written all over that familiar face. "Nothing to tell yet. I won't know anything until after the scans. If it was bruising or aneurysms, the dark areas will have shrunk or even faded completely."

Chuck shoved away from the railing and stepped closer, almost breaching Raleigh's comfort zone but not quite. "And if they haven't?"

His jaw twinged, and he abruptly realized he'd been clenching it, almost like he expected Chuck to deck him. Or was it just that he wasn't used to anyone but Mako getting this close? Either way, he thought it prudent to tone it the hell down and took a deep breath to calm himself. Only then was he able to meet Chuck's worried gaze with something close to calm.

"If they haven't, the damage is most likely permanent."

Paling, Chuck stared at him for a long, tense moment, then jerked a hand out and clamped it down on his shoulder. Raleigh flinched at first, half-wondering if the bastard was about to deck him after all. Then, that hand tightened and hauled him forward into a hard hug.

Chuck Hansen. Hugging him.

Mako had hugged him after Pitfall. Tendo had hugged him when they met up again after five years apart. When was the last time before that? He couldn't honestly remember, but he was pretty sure it had been Yancy, and that was just... sad.

After a probably-awkward, too-long moment, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around the clone and hugged him back. A breath sighed out of him, and he actually relaxed enough to lean his forehead on that broad shoulder.

"If you want...." Chuck's voice was so quiet that if they weren't this close, Raleigh would have never heard him. "If you want, I could sit in with you. For the scans."

Despite the situation, he felt a grin tugging at his mouth and was glad his face was hidden. "What, you got nothing better to do tomorrow?"

A huff of warm breath against his neck raised goosebumps, and he abruptly realized that this innocent and honest comforting hug might be a different scenario for Chuck.

"Maybe I just wanna see you in a hospital johnny, yeah?"

His face heated instantaneously, and he shoved away, both relieved that Chuck easily let him go and even more embarrassed that the bastard could now easily see how red his face had to be.

"You remember when you asked me if the old you was really that much of an asshole?"

A truly shitty smirk tapped into the evil power of both dimples. "And you said yeah, absolutely?"

Resisting the urge to grin in the face of such a devastating combination of smug and adorable, Raleigh shook his head. "I left out the part about the new you being just as bad."

Chuck laughed, the sound geniune and free of any mockery or attitude. "Oi, now, fair is fair. You saw me in one; I oughtta get to see you."

"Oh, that's how it is? You showed me yours, so now I'm supposed to show you mine?"

The bastard had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows. _Again_.

"Such an asshole."

"Wouldn't wanna disappoint ya, mate."

And somehow, just like that, it was decided. And Raleigh couldn't help but take comfort in the fact that, no matter what the doctors found out tomorrow, he wouldn't be alone when they found it.


	6. Chapter 6

"Finally alone?"

Raleigh looked up from his cheesy broccoli. Normally, just the sight of Mako moving to sit across from him, her tray as neatly arranged as his was all piled and sloppy, would have him grinning ear to ear. Now, though, something about her tone and expression gave him pause. She sounded... careful.

She hadn't been careful around him since they first met.

Instead of grinning, he frowned a bit. "Is everything alright?"

For a long moment, she didn't answer. Staring at her tray, she arranged her knife and fork, opened her carton of milk, adjusted her napkin. Then, she simply placed her hands flat on the table and looked up at him.

"No. And I think you know that."

Uh-oh. Had he not hidden his anxiety about the scans enough? Admittedly, even Chuck had noticed he wasn't quite himself, but he'd spent an awful lot of time with Chuck recently. He'd thought Mako too busy securing construction permission with the relevant governments and organizations to notice, though.

And he'd already been caught flat-footed long enough to prove her point, so he didn't deny it. Trying to look sheepish, he forced a hint of a grin. "That obvious?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head with... curiosity? "Then you _do_ know something."

Now, he was confused. "I don't... Mako, what are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?"

"Uh-uh. You first. You're the one who sat down on a mission."

To his infinite relief, her expression softened. She didn't quite smile, but her eyes sort of did. "I suppose you're right." That brilliant focus narrowed again. "I am talking about Chuck. Something is wrong, and I think you know that." Her eyes felt like lasers as they bore into his own. "I think you might even know why."

Chuck? She was talking about Chuck this whole time? Relief warred with the knowledge that he couldn't tell her anything without asking the clone or even Herc about what could and couldn't be said. He still hadn't gotten around to it.

He couldn't help it. He and Chuck always found something else to talk about, and Herc was the marshal. Marshal Hansen always had something on his schedule. Raleigh hadn't said more than a friendly hello to the man all week.

He had, however, noticed the marshal looked a hell of a lot better.

"Raleigh...." Suddenly, she sounded tired, and he realized he still hadn't said anything. "He's... different. You must have noticed. You spend more time with him than anyone, and that, if nothing else, proves my point."

He squirmed a little in his seat and poked at his mashed potatoes.

"Before Pitfall, you two barely had two civil words for each other. Even during the mission, it was Striker and Gipsy, not Raleigh or Chuck. Sensei and I...." She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard, and his heart ached for her. She so rarely showed her pain. "Sensei and I spoke to each other. Sensei even spoke to you directly. But you and Chuck? Never."

It was all true. He didn't bother denying any of it.

"Then, six months later, he wakes up -- not that either Tendo or I can find any record of anyone discovering his escape pod or even any data from the mission that suggests it actually ejected -- and the minute it's announced that he's alive, you and he are nearly inseparable and as comfortable as if you'd been friends all along." Her eyebrows drew together. "You told me you only found out about his survival two days before the announcement. Raleigh... did you lie to me?"

He sighed heavily. He should have guessed she wouldn't be swayed by an "official" cover story. Mako Mori was no one's fool, and she was a keen observer of everyone around her. Besides, he'd known all along that she deserved better than the careful lies and spurious half-truths.

"Mako, I would never lie to you. I _could_ never lie to you, but I wouldn't even if I could."

Some of the tension went out of her shoulders, but she still watched him with too much seriousness.

He put his fork down entirely and gave up being able to eat for a while. "Did you talk to Herc? Or even to Chuck himself?"

A hint of frustration crept into her serious expression. "Yes. To both. But that only made me more suspicious. The marshal is too relieved at having Chuck back to get a read on, and Chuck...."

When she didn't seem ready or even able to continue, Raleigh nudged her foot with his under the table. "Chuck...?"

She huffed a sigh and... scowled? Was that a scowl? He'd never seen such an irritated, annoyed expression on her face. It was adorable as hell, and he fought to avoid a smirk at the sight of it.

"All I could get out of him was an apology for calling me a bitch."

A laugh jumped out of him. He couldn't help it. She looked absolutely disgusted by the apology, by the fact that she'd intended to get information out of him and had gotten a civility instead.

"It's not funny! He even looked like he meant it. He brought it up himself. I wasn't even talking about the fight when he said it."

He chuckled and picked his fork back up to dig at his meatloaf. "So Chuck's apology made you more suspicious? Was he not prone to apologizing when you were kids?"

"I have never heard him apologize for anything."

Though he was still amused by the turn of the conversation, he grunted. "He still hasn't apologized to me. He called me a bitch, too, ya know."

"See? It's... it's _not Chuck_." The serious frustration was back. "He's just... different... and I don't know how. Or why. But something's not right, and it... Raleigh, it worries me."

He could ease her fears with a single explanation. Unfortunately, he couldn't do it. Not without Chuck's okay and certainly not without Herc's. It wasn't just whether or not Chuck wanted people to know. The only reason there was a Chuck to discuss at all was because of a top secret experiment that had gone a bit awry when the real Chuck started messing around with his own memories. As the marshal, Herc would be the end-all be-all of permissions, there, and he had already issued his public statement.

But it chafed. Mako deserved better, dammit.

All he could tell her was the barest possible truth. So, gearing himself up mentally, he reached out and touched her hand, then met her eyes when she raised them from her tray.

"Mako, do you trust me?"

Her lips pressed together into a thin line, but she nodded, turning her hand and twining her fingers through his.

"Then believe me when I say that the Chuck Hansen you knew, the one from before, is gone forever."

Her fingers were cold as they clenched on his.

"For all intents and purposes, he died during Pitfall." He watched as her eyes sparkled with a wash of six-months-late tears that she didn't allow to fall. "Then again, so did I. And I know there are things about me that have changed since then."

She swallowed hard a few times, blinking furiously until she had herself under control again. Then, she managed a small smile. "You no longer blame yourself. For your brother."

He nodded. "I don't hate myself anymore." He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "And neither does Chuck."

After a moment's consideration, she nodded.

"You said he and I were just suddenly friends, like we'd been close the whole time? Honestly, it's because the first time I sat down and talked with him, I realized that. I realized pre-Pitfall Chuck was gone forever, and I had a unique opportunity to get to know the new one I'd found."

His eyes widened as he realized exactly how true the statement was. He was surprised at his own eloquence, but even more surprised that he meant every word.

And Mako saw it. She relaxed completely, the suspicion melting away on a sigh. With a final squeeze, she let go of his hand and took up her fork, and for a little while, it was like old times. They ate and talked about everything and nothing. She finished long before he did, though, because she had yet another teleconference with a potential private contractor who was interested in producing a scaled-down jaeger that might be single-pilot capable.

Before he could look around to gauge the chances of sneaking his cooled-off broccoli and congealed cheese sauce into the trash, Herc plunked an overfilled tray down across from him and sat in the seat Mako had vacated. God, were they tag-teaming him now?

Because he knew from a single glance that the good marshal had something to say.

"You weren't, by any chance, thinking about throwing away perfectly good vegetables, were you?"

Caught, he could only grin sheepishly. "Can't help it. They still taste like dirt to me."

Herc smirked. "And Chuck would skin me alive if he knew I'd let you toss 'em, so down the hatch they go, mate."

Grumbling but not really irritated, he stabbed a floret and wished he hadn't let them sit for so long. Cold limp broccoli was even worse than hot limp broccoli.

"Speaking of Chuck...."

He glanced up, eyebrows raising. Was he wearing a sign on his back or something? Why was everyone suddenly asking him about Chuck?

Herc eyed him for a long moment, probably gauging the weather on his face, then looked down at his tray and poked at his meatloaf. "You do know he's in love with you, right?"

His mind blanked, and all he could manage was, "...Uh."

Undeterred, the marshal forked in a hefty bite of meatloaf, chewed, and swallowed. Then: "I'm not talking about the fake memories, either. He talked about them, those first couple of days, and he's just about convinced himself that none of it actually happened, even though it feels to him like it did."

Raleigh didn't even try to eat. He probably would have shoved broccoli in his eye if he tried anything requiring more brain power than not falling out of his chair.

"But since you two talked a few days back, it's been Ray this and Ray that and how you two can actually talk now and how Max sometimes cuddles up against your legs instead of Chuck's and honestly, it's nauseating."

Herc was exaggerating. He _had_ to be exaggerating. It had only been three days, really.

Or had it been? Apparently, the real Chuck had been gathering personal intel on him even while he supposedly hated him.

"So I have to ask, mate... what are you doing with my son?"

Blank again. He couldn't even "uh" this time.

"Because he _is_ my son. In a lot of ways, he's more my son now that we can actually talk about what went so wrong between us than when we wasted all our time being furious and disappointed in each other. I don't know if that's something Chuck did to his memories or if it's just that we closed the Breach and bought ourselves some time, but I won't give it up." Herc's blue eyes were cold and assessing as they drilled into Raleigh's own. "You two have been thick as thieves these past few days, so you understand. I gotta ask."

His mind stuttered, and he wondered briefly if Herc would reach across the table and throttle him worse for admitting he had no intentions beyond friendship with Chuck or for admitting that he really hadn't thought about it at all. They were just getting to the point where they could joke about the clone having false memories of them getting it on. That didn't mean Raleigh had thought about it in anything but the abstract.

But... love? Even right from the start, the clone hadn't said anything about love. Just that they'd... done something. Been intimate in some way. Had settled things between them before dropping for Pitfall.

Maybe Herc was overreacting.

The marshal sighed and let his gaze fall back to his tray. "Kid, you look way too surprised and cornered for my piece of mind. You've not even noticed, have you?"

Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat, feeling absurdly like he'd been called into the principal's office. "Guilty as charged, sir."

Another sigh. "Well, you've no excuse not to notice now, yeah? And think about what you plan to do about it."

His mouth moved a few times before he could make it function. "Do, sir?"

This time, those baby blues weren't icy. They were sharp as razor blades. "Fish or cut bait."

He blinked.

Herc put down his fork. "Look, Raleigh, if you're straight, just tell him. He's just about decided you are and he has no chance at you, and he's willing to try to just be friends, but you have to tell him that. Don't leave it hanging. It's not fair to him to let him cling to the hope that, since you seem to have overcome your dislike of who he used to be, you might come to want him back."

He blinked again, seemingly incapable of anything else. He was completely caught offguard and hadn't been remotely ready for this conversation.

And honestly, it wasn't fair. At all.

Just like that, some of his stymie faded, and he frowned. "Sir... Herc... it's been less than a week. In fact, it's really only been three days. I'm still sorting out what I feel about him being here at all, and you expect me to decide if I want a relationship with a guy I thought was dead five days ago? Who's a clone? Of a guy that pretty much hated me on sight? Six months ago?"

Herc frowned, too, but backed down a bit. "Alright." He sighed. "Alright, you have a point."

"Thank you."

The marshal clearly wanted to continue badgering him, but... well... Raleigh _did_ have a point. He had no idea what to feel about any of this other than what he'd told Mako not half an hour ago: he was grateful to have a second chance to get to know a man he'd thought dead and gone and not terribly fond of him. He hadn't had time to think beyond that.

Finally, Herc huffed another sigh. "Can I at least ask if he has a chance?"

He felt his forehead crease on the beginnings of another frown. "I don't...?"

To Raleigh's amazement, the good marshal shifted in his seat and blushed. "C'mon, mate. Don't make it weird."

Wide-eyed -- and perversely amused at Herc's sudden discomfort after the virtual attack earlier -- Raleigh shook his head. "Herc, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Clearing his throat noisily, Herc seemed to find his meatloaf inordinately fascinating. "Just sayin... if you want me to tell him you're straight... I'll do it. That oughtta clear the air, yeah?"

Ah. Well.

This was so not a conversation he ever thought he'd have with Marshal Hercules Hansen. Especially not for his son's benefit. Hell, it wasn't even something he'd thought about himself for so long he'd thought it all buried.

So. Huh.

"I guess that all depends on who you ask."

Herc's head came up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His jaw clenched with old irritation that he knew was more Yancy's than his own. He hadn't done much more than experiment when it all happened, after all, and....

Fuck it.

"It means that, according to the PPDC higher-ups and the UN, all-American Raleigh Becket and his all-American brother Yancy were unequivocally as straight as apple pie and baseball."

The marshal's face tightened.

"It was the height of the jaeger program's fame. They wanted us to keep up an image. They didn't want that image to be that their all-American heroes were, shall we say, equal opportunity in the sheets."

A muscle clenched in Herc's cheek. "You've been hiding it this whole time?"

He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. At this point, he wasn't sure how much of his building anger was Yancy's and how much was his own.

"Hiding it? No. _Subjugating_ it. Hiding meant it might have been found out. We were told that if word ever got out about any illicit affairs or that we'd so much as _looked_ at anyone who wasn't equipped with a functioning vagina, we'd be summarily dropped from the program and denounced as having been fraudulent on our entry paperwork. And denied benefits." He jabbed at his meatloaf and lowered his voice to a mutter. "Not that it ended up mattering much."

At that, Herc shoved aside his still-full tray and smacked his hand down on the table, drawing a few concerned glances. Raleigh tried not to tense up, suspecting it wasn't him that the marshal was mad at, but he couldn't help it. Adrenaline flushed into his system, and every muscle flexed with readiness to fight.

"Well, you can just forget that shite right now, Becket. If anyone tries to pull a stunt like that under my watch, I'll kick 'em out on their arses so fast they'll think I went back in time and did it."

The tension eased out, but he found he still couldn't smile. Luckily, Herc wasn't quite done.

"As the marshal, I'm telling you to be who you want to be. Not saying you have to take up with Chuck, just that you won't get any flack from me if you do. Or if you want any other bloke you come across. Who you wanna fuck has fuck-all to do with how you pilot a jaeger."

Now, he was hard-put _not_ to smile. He didn't think he'd ever seen Herc quite this worked up. And he really hadn't done more than a little drunken fumbling with one guy in high school before jaeger fame had drowned him in enough women to keep that niggling interest in the back of his mind at bay.

It had been Yancy's burden more than his own, even though they shared it in the Drift.

But apparently, Herc _still_ wasn't quite done. "That said, if you break my boy's heart, I'll break both your fucking legs. We clear?"

He laughed. "Crystal, sir."

"Right." Now that he was all worked up, the marshal seemed to have a hard time winding down. He yanked his tray back in front of him and started stabbing at his meatloaf, but didn't eat it just yet. "And if you're not gonna eat that broccoli, for God's sake, throw it away before it starts to stink."

Taking that as his cue to escape while he still could, Raleigh stood away from the table and took his tray to the drop-off. His lingering grin seemed to reassure the few people who had heard the raised voices that everything was fine, so he left the mess hall without having to talk to anyone else.

He apparently had some thinking to do.


	7. Chapter 7

Raleigh sat on the edge of the hospital cot, fiddling with his hospital johnny and glad they'd at least let him keep his boxer briefs on underneath. But not glad about much else.

"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack, mate."

He shot Chuck a half-hearted glare.

"I can feel your heartrate skyrocketing all the way over here."

"Ha ha." He shifted again, wishing he'd left his socks on. He didn't even know why. Not like it was cold. "Weren't you nervous when they did their tests on you?"

Chuck's eyebrows rose. "What tests?"

"When you woke up." When the clone only continued to look blank, Raleigh gestured vaguely. "You were an experiment, right? Surely Geiszler wanted to run tests on you to make sure you were... I dunno... functioning normally?"

Thankfully, Chuck didn't take offense. "Since I was already in the med bay, they did most of the reflex and sensory testing and the like there under the guise of me waking from a coma. Geiszler did come talk to me, but the second he found out the other Chuck had done another memory download at some point, he got even more fidgety than usual, locked the door, and called Dr. Lightcap for a quick conference. Apparently, neither of them knew about it. Chuck just did it himself."

Huh. He hadn't heard anything about this. Maybe that's why it had taken Herc two days to decide what to do. And why Raleigh hadn't heard anything from either of them for those two days.

"What'd they say?"

The clone shrugged. "Too much to get into, really. Between me and Dad telling them what a fuckarow my wake-up was with me not knowing from the first moment that I was a clone or that I'd been given false memories, they decided pretty fucking quick that the potential for abuse of the technology was too great."

Raleigh shook his head. Not because he disagreed but because they should've thought about that stuff before trying it out.

Although, if they _hadn't_ tried it out, Chuck wouldn't be sitting in the chair across the room, waiting with him for the summons to the neural scanner and trying to keep him from freaking out.

"Is that when they decided on the official statement to the press?"

Chuck nodded. "They deleted all the research and findings, too, just in case. As far as the world's concerned, I'm the only Chuck Hansen that's ever been."

He debated the question a long moment before he asked it. He'd been lucky not to offend before. However, after a glance at Chuck proved that the little bastard guessed he had a question and was ready for it, he shrugged and asked.

"Does it still bother you?"

Nodding slowly, the clone dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. "I wish I could tell Mako. I know she knows something's not right, but nothing I'm allowed to say would help. And Tendo. I dunno how suspicious he is, but we've worked together a damn long time, and he deserves better."

He was abruptly glad for the conversation he'd had with Mako the evening before. Maybe he could lay a little of Chuck's guilt to rest.

"I don't think you'll have to worry too much about Mako anymore."

One ginger eyebrow rose, and that was definitely a Clone Chuck look, not an Original Chuck look. Raleigh grinned.

"She asked me last night if I knew why you were so different and how we could suddenly be friends now when we were only a bit of grudging respect shy of enemies when you supposedly died."

"Oh." Chuck blinked. "Shit."

"Yeah." But his grin didn't dim. "Don't worry. I didn't say anything about cloning." Catching Chuck's suspicious look, he rolled his eyes. "I didn't lie, either. I just said that, for all intents and purposes, the Chuck Hansen she knew before was gone forever and we're lucky to have a chance to know a version of him that's a lot less angry at the world and himself. That I wasn't exactly the same man as before I died for a couple minutes in my escape pod, either."

Relieved but strangely musing, the clone nodded and slumped back in his seat, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. Raleigh let him stew a minute. This Chuck had no problem asking if something was on his mind.

Sure enough, after a long pause, he looked up and caught Raleigh's eye. "Did you mean it?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Mean what?"

That direct gaze didn't waver. "That you're lucky to have a chance to know me?"

Herc's icy glare flashed through his mind for a moment, and he took an extra moment to really consider his answer before blurting something he might regret. He absolutely did not regret getting a miracle second chance to know Chuck Hansen. But knowing that said Chuck Hansen was nursing a crush Herc though serious enough to be called love?

Did he want to accidentally feed that flame? Or douse it completely?

Sighing, he decided to do what he'd always tried to do -- be honest.

"You're damn right I am. I never wanted to fight you, Chuck. I'm glad to know that's not all there is to you."

To his infinite relief, Chuck seemed to take him at his word and not ascribe any deeper meaning. The clone simply grinned and kicked back in his chair.

"Gotta admit, Ray, the other me missed out not trying to talk you up sweet."

His eyebrows shot up. "How's that?"

"Because I found those old movies you talked about yesterday in the archives, and if that me had asked you to come to his bunk for a beer and a movie marathon, I'm pretty sure the conversation would have ended in a trip to the med bay."

Now, his eyes narrowed. "Is that your way of asking if I wanna go to your bunk for beer and a movie marathon?"

That shrug and grin combination was one hundred percent Clone Chuck. "I figure we're already in the med bay, so it might save some time."

He laughed and shook his head. "You really found the Star Wars trilogy on the archives?"

"I did."

"And you really haven't seen them before?"

Chuck shrugged. "As far as I know, I haven't."

He smirked. "Do you have beer?"

A snort. "Please. I'm Australian."

Another chuckle snuck out. "In that case, I accept. If you're willing to watch old movies with a brain-damaged, washed out has-been, I guess I'm willing to have a beer or two with a clone."

"Really? That's all I get? A clone?"

It was almost a shame how much banter he'd missed out on with the real Chuck.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You get adjectives, Ray. Why don't I get adjectives?"

"They're bad adjectives!"

"Still. Adjectives."

It occurred to him suddenly that he wasn't worrying about the scans at all. He smirked. "All right. How about smug? That adjective work for ya?"

"You got two."

He snorted. "Then add 'needy' on there, too."

And still, the little bastard faked a pout. Who needed Max for the puppy eyes? Chuck was killing him, here.

"Yours were compound words."

"You're really jealous of compound adjectives like 'brain-damaged' and 'washed out'?"

"Just think you could be a bit more creative, mate."

Before he could retort, the door opened and a nurse peeked her head in to ask them to follow her. All the easy banter fell away, and the reality of what was about to happen hit him all over again. Chuck had helped, to be sure, but now it was time to face the music. Feeling himself pale, he hopped off the cot and headed for the door, only to stop when a firm, warm hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed gently. He hadn't even seen Chuck stand up in his stupor.

"It'll be fine, Ray. You're not exhibiting symptoms of someone with permanent brain damage."

He swallowed hard and turned his head, meeting those changeable eyes from just over a foot away and taking an absurd amount of comfort from the surety in them. "How do you know?"

Dimples. Both sides. "Been researching traumatic brain injuries and the like."

For him. He didn't have to ask to know that Chuck had been looking into signs and symptoms of brain damage _for him_. Had probably been up all night doing so.

Maybe Clone Chuck really _did_ love him. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

Maybe he was even... more than a little okay with it. If it was true.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, though he was careful not to shrug out of that comforting grip. Chuck raised his eyebrows. Raleigh nodded.

They walked out the door together.


	8. Chapter 8

"Cheers, mate." Chuck clinked the neck of his bottle against Raleigh's. "Toldja ya had nothing to worry about."

Raleigh grinned and settled back against the wall, his legs stretched out across the width of Chuck's mattress. "There's still damage, ya know."

"We all got damage, mate." Unconcerned, the clone took a healthy swig and got comfortable on the bed a good foot away, then started the first movie. "Might not all be physical, but none of us came out unscathed."

He'd been about to crack a joke about Clone Chuck not even being a week old and completely scar free, but that last bit brought him up short. The clone might not have physical damage, but the poor guy still carried a heavy load.

"True enough." He took a good, long drink from his own bottle, savoring the strong flavor. It had been a damn long time since he'd had good beer. "I'm just glad they said I can still Drift."

"Correction: they said you could _try_ a Drift. In a simulator. With a half load."

He grinned. "Half load's better than no load at all. Once they clear me for that, I'll be off medical leave and able to actually do something around here."

Chuck shot him a look. "Thought you liked all the reading."

Shrugging, he half-wished he'd focused on the movie instead. They'd missed the whole opening. Just because he'd seen it a dozen times before the world changed didn't mean it had lost its charm in the intervening years. Or that he didn't want to watch Chuck experience it for the first time.

"I do. I just...." Fidgeting now, he picked at the label on his bottle. "I miss sparring."

Original Chuck hadn't been a fool, and Clone Chuck was just as sharp and perhaps more intuitive, at least as far as Raleigh was concerned. "Took up a lot of your time, yeah?"

 _On the Wall_ , he didn't say, but he didn't have to. They both knew he meant it.

Raleigh jerked a quick nod, watching with inordinate fascination as condensation beaded on the glass he fidgeted with. "I'm not used to having this much time to think about stuff I don't want to think about. I used to be able to just...."

"Thrash it out?"

"Exactly."

They were quiet for a while, drinking their beer and watching the movie. After a bit, Raleigh actually relaxed enough to forget the pall he'd accidentally thrown over the evening. Chuck was entertaining with his running commentary. First, he asked what was up with that chick's hair. Then, he had Raleigh snickering as he compared the droids to Geiszler and Gottleib. Next, the little bastard was earnestly positing theories on how to outfit the next jaeger with a light saber.

When the mood shifted with the discovery of Luke's family murdered, Raleigh wondered if maybe Chuck was thinking about his mother and debated calling the whole thing off. He didn't really remember most of the finer details of the trilogy, after all. It had been over a decade since he saw it last. He'd been thinking TIE fighters and X-wings and Jedi mind tricks and Han Solo, not the scattered and destroyed families and fallen friends.

Thankfully, Mos Eisley brought the good times back as Chuck started assigning kaiju categories to all the aliens in the bar. The rest of the movie passed with snickering and elbowing and snark, and by the end, Chuck asked him if he'd used the Force to drop Gipsy into the Breach and nuke the kaiju on their home turf.

Then, it was time for a piss break. They'd already gone through one full six-pack apiece, so they took turns, Raleigh glancing around the bunk while waiting for his. He didn't go poking around -- he wasn't rude -- but he couldn't help but feel curious about Chuck's place and things. Did he have more than one gray t-shirt? Would it be weirder to only have the one and wear it all the time or to have like fifty of them all the same?

Grinning, he stood at the desk and ran his eye over the little scatter of photos tacked up on the wall. There weren't nearly as many as on his own, but somehow, the pictures surprised him. Pleased him, even. He wouldn't have picked Chuck as someone sentimental enough to want to immortalize anything but his kaiju kill count, and yet....

The pictures were mostly of Max, of course. While Herc had graciously offered to keep the bulldog for the evening so they wouldn't be constantly interrupted by sporadic "pay attention to me while I do tricks" moments, Chuck had mentioned his beloved sidekick several times already. In fact, Raleigh was tempted to prompt the kid to go get his lovechild, already.

But there were two pictures that gave him pause and made him wonder if he should've asked before stepping over to peruse the selection. One was of a lovely ginger-haired bombshell that could only be Chuck's mother. She had those impossible dimples and a wicked glow in her eyes as she perched on a smiling Herc's shoulders. The pair looked to be in their twenties or early thirties, young and gorgeous and so clearly in love.

The other was of Herc and a man Raleigh only vaguely remembered seeing once before. Six years ago. In Manila.

"Uncle Scott."

He flinched, but when he shot a guilty look back over his shoulder, he was relieved to see that Chuck wasn't angry.

"That's Lucky Seven behind them. I spent as much time as I could up to my elbows in that damn jaeger, and this is the only picture I have of it."

He recognized Lucky Seven, of course. They'd dropped together, after all. But it was strange that Chuck just glossed over his uncle without emotion. What exactly had Scott Hansen done? He hadn't seemed like that bad a guy in Manila. A little wild and definitely self-centered, but bad enough that his family cut ties and the PPDC kicked him out?

He could see the PPDC kicking someone out for a little wildness, but he just couldn't see a Hansen rejecting another Hansen. Even when they couldn't say five words to each other without two curses and a punch, Herc and Chuck had stuck together.

"You can ask, mate. I can't tell you, but you can ask."

His discomfort melted on a crooked grin, and he turned away from the picture to lean back against the desk and cross his arms. Chuck looked wryly amused and not at all upset.

"It's none of my business." He shrugged. "I was just taking a look around."

"I'm a bit disappointed in you, Ray."

His eyebrows went up. Chuck didn't look disappointed. In fact, the little bastard looked smug as hell.

"Here I thought I'd come out to find you elbow-deep in my panty drawer."

A laugh snuck out of him, and he shook his head. Had Chuck always had the ability to surprise a laugh out of him and he just never knew?

"I didn't think you'd give me that long. You didn't drink that much beer."

The smug look deepened into a smirk, and Raleigh made his escape into the bathroom. When he came back out, Chuck was already sprawled back against the wall with a fresh beer in hand. The clone looked comfortable, but he also looked less smug and generally less relaxed.

Well, Clone Chuck wasn't the only one who could yank a laugh out of nowhere.

"Don't tell me; you changed into the thong."

To his smug amusement, those grey eyes lit up and Chuck did, indeed, laugh. "You wish, mate."

Grinning, he grabbed himself another bottle and settled in, watching as Chuck's amusement faded back to the quieter, almost contemplative mood. His own grin fell a bit, and he acted before thinking by elbowing the poor guy in the upper arm. When their eyes met, Raleigh raised one eyebrow.

Chuck shrugged as if Raleigh had asked a question out loud. "You said you wished you could spar. I was just thinking about our spar."

The raised eyebrow shot up further. Their what now?

The clone sighed. "And then I remembered sorting my memories with Dad that first day. He said that, as far as he knew, that one hadn't happened."

Ah. He nodded. "Well, you could maybe call the thing in the hall a spar, but I probably wouldn't have done an arm bar in a real spar."

Chuck's mouth twitched upward. "Thought you were gonna break my arm."

He smirked. "Me, too."

"Nice, Ray. Real nice."

A little silence fell between them, and Raleigh started to wonder if maybe Chuck was angling for an invitation. To be honest, he wasn't averse to a spar with this version of Chuck. In fact, the more he thought about it, the better it sounded. Their fight hadn't exactly been one-sided, and the idea of testing his mettle against the man with the second-highest kaiju kill count ever without worrying about loosing teeth because of it was an interesting one.

Just as the clone moved to start the next movie, Raleigh shrugged and went for broke. "So... do you wanna spar?"

He expected those eyes to light up and for Chuck to practically leap on the offer. Instead, the little bastard just shrugged. Confused now, he shifted and tried not to frown.

"Well, don't work up a sweat with all that enthusiasm, there, Chuck."

That got him a quick flash of a wry grin, there and gone too fast to truly appreciate. "Sorry, mate. I just...."

"Hey." He sat up and twisted, looking full-on at the man who had become his friend in such a short time. Chuck was obviously really bothered by something, and that bothered him. "Seriously, Chuck, what's wrong?"

"It's stupid."

"It's bothering you. Tell me." He shrugged. "I wanna know."

Chuck looked at him for a long, strangely intent moment. Finally, he sighed. "We were Drift compatible in the memory, Ray." That hard jaw clenched. "I don't wanna find out we aren't."

Well. That was....

Why would Original Chuck plant that memory? Did he think maybe they _were_ Drift compatible, or just... hope? _Were_ they?

It was strange, but the more time Raleigh spent with Clone Chuck, the more he felt like he was getting to know the original one. And, oddly enough, liking the jerk better than he'd ever thought possible, especially posthumously.

"What if we are?"

The clone eyed him, perhaps looking for the punchline. However, Raleigh meant the question. What if they were Drift compatible? What would it matter? They already had Drift partners.

Apparently realizing Raleigh was serious, Chuck forced a casual shrug. "I can't pilot with Dad anymore, mate."

He frowned again. "Because you're a clone?"

"Because he's the marshal, ya wanker."

"Oh." Sheepish, he cleared his throat. "So you're looking for a copilot?"

To his surprise, Chuck eyed him with smirking fondness. "Put the bottle down, Ray. I think you've had one too many."

His eyebrows rose.

"I can't Drift with just anyone, mate. They'd know instantly I'm not the real Chuck, and God only knows what they'd do with that information."

Good God, it was so obvious that he hadn't even considered it. The original Chuck might have wanted them to be Drift compatible for the same potential reasons he'd downloaded memories of late night conversations and last-minute intimacies, but this Chuck actually _needed_ them to be Drift compatible or he may never be able to pilot another jaeger.

And, to Chuck, what was any version of Chuck Hansen without that drive to be the best and protect the world?

But maybe none of that mattered because, for some reason, Chuck's oh-so-casual statement flicked him on the raw, and instead of focusing on whether or not they should set up a friendly spar, just to see if Drifting was even in the realm of possibility, all he could think was--

"But you _are_ the real Chuck."

The words blurted out, but he realized the instant he said them that he actually meant them. Even as the clone hit him with that wide-eyed, purely Clone Chuck expression of surprise, Raleigh could only repeat them.

"You _are_ real. Just because your memories don't match up doesn't mean you aren't Chuck."

The clone stared at him for a long moment, jaw clenching and relaxing, then leaned closer. Raleigh knew what was coming and made no move to stop it. In fact, he leaned in himself until their noses brushed and the greenish-bluish grey of Chuck's eyes was close enough for him to make out all the little striations of color before they closed.

It wasn't much of a kiss, really. Just because Raleigh hadn't kissed anyone since before he'd lost everything didn't mean this one was all that special. There was really no reason for his stomach to feel like the first big drop in Gipsy's conn pod, for his pulse to speed up and his breath to catch in his chest.

Then, Chuck sighed softly and tilted his head just so, and _this_ kiss was so far beyond special that questions of reality were pointless. What was real when he suddenly wondered if it was _his_ memory that was wrong because Chuck kissed him like they'd kissed a thousand times? When it felt like he knew exactly how to nibble Chuck's lower lip to earn a throaty moan and Chuck knew exactly how to flick his tongue to tempt Raleigh to surge forward with his own?

And then Chuck pulled away and cursed softly, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn together in a knot. "Sorry, mate. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

Having none of that shit, Raleigh grabbed a fistful of grey t-shirt and dragged the clone back into kissing distance.

"I did."

But he only got a taste before Chuck again pulled away, cupping Raleigh's jaw with one of those big hands to keep him from pressing forward again. Confused and a little frustrated, he opened his eyes and whimpered, actually _whimpered_ , at the sight of Chuck licking at his lower lip where Raleigh had nipped him. It earned him a breathy chuckle.

"Didn't actually ask you here for this, Ray." Greyish eyes locked on Raleigh's mouth, and Chuck's jaw clenched. "Not that I didn't want it, mind."

He leaned into that firm but not too-much grip. "Then why are we talking about it?"

The clone sighed and stroked his thumb along Raleigh's jaw, then visibly forced himself to let go and scoot a good foot away. Raleigh could still reach him, of course, but the space was deliberate. He couldn't bring himself to disrespect it.

"What happened... between us...." Chuck shook his head. "That memory only happened because it was the end of the world for both of us, mate. The night before a suicide mission, as it were. I... _he_ knew there wouldn't be a 'morning after'." That mouth, the lips plump and flushed from even such a short encounter, quirked into a brief grin. "Don't have to worry about still being able to work together when we're both dead, yeah?"

So... he didn't want...? Raleigh couldn't form the words to ask, because embarrassment at his presumption that the clone still wanted him was climbing up his throat, inside and out.

And the little bastard saw it and quirked an actual smirk. "Don't look at me like that, Ray. I just mean we can't afford to go this fast when we still have work to do. Including a spar to see if we might be Drift compatible."

He couldn't help it. His relief and anticipation and, yes, his interest showed itself on his face without his permission, and Chuck, asshole that he was, chuckled at it and leaned forward for just one more kiss. It was far too short, but Raleigh understood. And appreciated the explanation.

Besides, now that his focus wasn't solely on the texture of Chuck's lips and the taste of his mouth, he realized he still hadn't done anything more than a little making out with a guy before, and Chuck clearly knew better than he did what happened next. Or at least had memories of it, which Raleigh was beginning to think was much the same thing. He needed to rectify that situation and fast. Maybe Tendo still knew how to set someone's log-in to allow tracking-free research.

But that was for tomorrow. Tonight, they still had two Star Wars episodes and another six-pack to get through.

They settled back against the wall, sitting close enough together that their shoulders brushed, and managed to make it through the second movie without either sniping or making out. When they ran out of beer, they switched over to water without having to consult about it. Neither of them wanted a hangover in the morning.

Halfway through the third movie, Chuck leaned closer still and put a warm, heavy hand on his thigh, and Raleigh grinned softly and slumped down enough to tilt his head against Chuck's shoulder. And when he woke up some unknown time later, the big jerk got him up on his feet, saw him to the door, and kissed him slowly and thoroughly until he seriously considered just staying and seeing where this led.

"Tomorrow, Ray. I don't want you saying you were drunk later."

"'M not drunk."

Another slow, easy kiss. "We've got time, love. We closed the Breach, remember?"

He huffed a grunt but obligingly stepped out onto the stoop, then promptly almost fell down the steps. Laughing, Chuck rescued him from faceplanting on the metal floor, gave him another kiss, then turned him to face the direction of his own room.

"I really need to learn the puppy eyes. You couldn't resist me if I had puppy eyes."

"God help me. Go on with you, then."

And with that, Chuck smacked him on the ass and sent him on his way.

The smack actually kind of hurt. Rubbing at the spot, Raleigh clambered up the steps to his room and wondered why he kind of liked it.

Before he could puzzle out an answer, he was facedown on his bunk and fast asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

He'd slept in his boots. He never slept in his boots. He hated the way his toes ended up feeling all cramped and sweaty when he slept in his boots.

_Beep. Beep._

Had he set an alarm?

_Beep. Beep._

Why would he set an alarm?

_Beep._

Not like he had a schedule to keep these days.

_Beep._

Not an alarm. That was his message tone. Someone had sent him a message.

_Beep._

Some _sadist_ had sent him a message at this cruel hour of--

_Beep._

He cracked one eye open, winced, and looked for a clock... oh. It was damn near ten in the morning.

_Beep._

Ugh. He already hated today, and it was only ten o'clock. He should've drank more water last night. Clearly, his alcohol tolerance wasn't what it used to be.

_Beep._

"I got it, I got it."

Reaching out blindly, he groped at his desk until he found the touchscreen that made the beeping stop. Groaning, he slumped facefirst in his pillow and tried to pull himself together. It wasn't so much that he felt hungover as that he was... sleep drunk, maybe? He hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep in a row for damn near forever, and here it was ten A.M., and he wondered if sleeping too much after not being able to was like eating too much after starving.

He certainly felt like he could throw up.

No, wait. That was growling, not roiling. He usually ate by six at the latest. His stomach was _pissed_.

Had Chuck missed him this morning? Or was the poor guy afraid Raleigh was hiding from him after getting a wee bit tipsy and slobbering all over him?

Not that those kisses had been slobbery. Wet, yes. And warm. But not drooly.

Of course, he now became aware of his old nemesis, morning wood, and it seemed a bit more insistent than usual this time around. Great. Just great.

He needed a shower. And to brush his teeth. Ugh, and another couple of bottles of water.

He was tempted to let the message-leaving sadist wait on him, but if it was Chuck worrying about last night, he didn't want to leave the guy hanging any longer. It wouldn't take but a second to tap in that he'd overslept and would be around as soon as he ate everything left in the mess hall.

Sighing, he shoved up and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, then dragged his fingers through his hair.

"Get it together, Rals."

First things first, though; off with the damn boots. He was tempted to wander around in socks the rest of the day, dammit.

Still rubbing at his feet, he reached over and tapped the screen. It was a video message. That was a little odd. No one here would bother with a video when they could just walk down the hall and knock on the door. And everyone else he'd known was gone.

Frowning, he started the feed. He frowned worse when Chuck appeared on his screen, scowling. Were they breaking up? Could they break up when he wasn't even sure last night counted as a date?

Wait. No.

That wasn't Chuck.

Not Clone Chuck, anyway.

His heart twisted, and he put a hand to the spot. The Chuck on the screen had an angry cut over the bridge of his nose and a taped split over his left cheekbone. The Chuck on the screen looked like he hadn't smiled in so long that his mouth had forgotten how.

Worse, the Chuck on the screen looked pissed off without even saying a word.

"Oi, Ray. Got a few things to say, here, and I hope you'll actually listen 'cause it's not like I'll have another chance, yeah?"

Original Chuck had left him a message. Six months ago. Before he died.

Had he left one for Herc, too? Or had he assumed they would say everything that needed said before the drop?

"I'm setting this to be delivered when the clone's ready -- uh... if Dad hasn't told you yet, surprise? -- but Geiszler says the growth rate isn't always linear, so I might be a bit early. If so, you won't have a fucking clue what I'm on about, and you'll probably hate me even more than you already do." Huffing a grunt, Chuck shifted uncomfortably, still scowling. "Not that I've given you any reason not to."

Raleigh swallowed hard, watching with wounded eyes, his hand still over that sore spot in his chest.

"I fucked everything up, didn't I? Damn near from the moment you walked into the Shatterdome. I was just so...." Obviously frustrated, the original cocky bastard scruffed a hand through his hair and sighed. "Doesn't matter. I had my chances, didn't I? Ran them all right out. We're headed for the Breach, and I knew the second I saw Pentecost all suited up that I won't be coming back. He won't survive it, and I dunno if I can do what you did, mate."

He wanted to close his eyes and hang his head, but he didn't want to miss a single change in Chuck's expression. This was more than that sly bastard had said to him the entire time they'd known each other before the Breach, even with all the trash talk.

"So, since I'm not coming back, I did myself a favor and did an extra Drift with the clone. Geiszler doesn't know. Neither does my old man. You'll find out pretty quick, though. I...."

For the first time, Original Chuck looked approachable as his cheeks flushed enough to hide the freckles. Even with the deepening scowl, the brat was... adorable. Or maybe Raleigh was seeing Clone Chuck in the original recipe for the first time.

"Look, mate, I've got damn fine control of my Drift. How else d'ya think me and my old man haven't fixed all this shit between us yet? We keep to ourselves in the Drift and just do our job. I figured out when I did the first memory download to the clone that I could probably tell it whatever I wanted. Not like it has a frame of reference, yeah?"

Raleigh blinked. Part of him had assumed the false memories were something of an accident. Hell, he'd even started to sort of hope they'd been wishful thinking on Chuck's part. But... if Chuck had that kind of control...?

Another harsh sigh. "Oi, there's no nice way to say it, Ray. I lied to him. I deliberately forced memories of... well... you and me. You'll find out soon enough, and I'm hoping forewarned is forearmed. I did it because... crikey, mate, I'm not even sure. I ruined everything with you this time around, and I don't... I don't want it to end like that."

Original Chuck was sounding more like Clone Chuck by the second. If anyone had told Raleigh that the original Chuck would ever talk to him like this, he'd have laughed until he threw up.

"Basically, I imagined I did pretty much everything the opposite of what I actually did from the moment I found you reading in the mess at fuck o'clock in the morning after our fight." Wincing, he briefly touched the cut on his nose. "I had maybe my first chance to fix my shit that night, and I didn't do it, and I spent the rest of the night trying to picture what would've happened if I'd sat down and asked what the fuck you were doing instead of walking away like a fucking coward."

So... they _were_ wishful thinking? The fake memories? Was that what Chuck was saying?

"Look, I want you to know what I did ahead of time so you'll have a chance to get your head around it, mate. I lied to the clone so he can come to you like I should have, without all the attitude, knowing what the fuck he wants."

Raleigh's mouth opened, his breath coming short.

"Don't... please don't hold him responsible for my fuck-ups, Ray. Please. And don't worry that he's not me, because... because he'll actually be more me than I am right now. He'll say the things I can't. He's... mate, he's me without this stupid fucking fear of rejection, so I need you to promise me you'll at least give him a chance, yeah? Will you promise me that?"

He started to answer, to say  of course he would, before remembering he was listening to a video from six months ago. From a dead man he'd only barely known.

As if having the same realization, Chuck huffed a soft laugh. "Fuck, I forgot I'm not actually talking to you for a second there. Maybe some of those memories I gave him stuck around in my own mind, ya think? Wonder what Stacks'll think when...."

His heart did that painful twisting thing again, and he couldn't hold back the noise it wrenched from him. It was a quiet sound, like a knife being pulled from a wound.

After a moment's silence, Chuck cleared his throat and blushed again, grinning a little and showing off that damn left dimple and looking so much like Clone Chuck that Raleigh wasn't sure he even knew the difference anymore. Was there one, at this point?

"I guess I'm also telling you in case ya don't like blokes. You've not been with one before, as far as I know, and believe me, mate, I looked." The blush heated, and Chuck squirmed in his seat. "I mean I... fuck. Never mind. Just... I got no reason but my instincts to think you'd go for it, and honestly, mate, my instincts are probably a bit rusty. But I felt something from that first look, even though it pissed me off, and something tells me you felt it, too, even though you sure as hell didn't show it. If I'm wrong, break it to him gently, yeah?"

Distantly, Raleigh felt his mouth quirk into a smile, even though he was pretty sure he was bleeding internally.

"Oi, and one more thing, mate, if you're still listening."

Said as if Raleigh wouldn't watch this video in its entirety a hundred times over.

"Be... uh... be gentle with him, yeah? He doesn't know it, but he's a virgin. He knows what he's doing because Tendo is the master of the anonymous log-in and will do just about anything for a fresh onion bagel, but he hasn't actually... ahem." The blush was absolutely epic at this point. "Enough said about that. You've fucked enough girls, mate. Between the two of you, you'll figure it out."

Huh.

So Chuck hadn't...? Even with a woman?

Well.

"This got longer than I meant it to. I just... I shoulda said all of this to you directly, but I'd rather go up against a Category IV with a flare gun again than imagine the look on your face if I bent you over a table like I want to, yeah? Just... I need you to know that I wanted this. I lied to the... to myself so I could maybe have it. Have you. If I were a better man...."

Fuck. _Fuck_. Those changeable grey eyes were dark, Chuck's expression heartbreaking. For a moment, time ceased to have any meaning and the original Chuck was right here in the room with him, face to face and so full of guilt and regret that Raleigh wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

"Just... I'm so sorry, Raleigh. I dunno why I shoved you away. You're the best damn pilot I ever met, except maybe for my old man, and you're everything I ever wanted. Maybe... maybe I can do it right this time, yeah?"

They stared at each other over the six-month gulf between them before the Chuck from the past reached forward and turned off the feed. Raleigh felt... hollow. Like he'd just been scooped out and left to dry in the sun.

It was too much. Chuck had... the whole time, he'd... and they could have....

Someone knocked on his door. He... couldn't. He just couldn't. Whoever it was would have to come back later.

"Oi, Ray! You alive in there? Starting to get a bit fussed, here."

He was on his feet and across the room before he was even aware of movement, and in an instant, he had the door cranked open and threw himself into a startled Chuck's arms. He didn't think he was actually crying, but it was a damn near thing.

"Jesus, Ray, what the hell happened? Are you okay? Did they find something new on the scans or something? Fuck, _talk_ to me!"

"Sorry, sorry."

Even in his fluster, he noticed that Chuck held him close, trying to comfort him without even knowing what was wrong. This was the guy who wished he'd been a better man.

Fuck.

"'S alright, mate. Just tell me what happened."

He disentangled himself, feeling sheepish and way too emotional for his own peace of mind, and had a hard time meeting Chuck's eye as he backed into his room and stood aside in silent invitation. The clone didn't hesitate, though he stayed close until Raleigh took him by the arm and led him over to his desk.

"Ray?"

"Trust me, Chuck." He sighed. "You need to see this."

Without another word, he started the video again.


	10. Chapter 10

Chuck didn't cry, but he did take hold of Raleigh's hand at some point, and that grip only got tighter as the voice from the past spoke on. And when it was over, they sat silently, neither having any idea what to say. Finally, just as Raleigh realized he'd never quite made it to the bathroom and that, not only did he have to piss like a racehorse, but his breath could probably knock down a Category III, Chuck grunted.

"So I'm a fucking virgin?"

Startled, Raleigh laughed. Of all the things to get stuck on.

"Do you remember anyone but me?"

There was the freckle-canceling blush he was growing so fond of. "Well, no, but...." Chuck shifted in his seat, then abruptly let go of Raleigh's hand to cross his arms over that broad chest. "Guess it just now hit me that not being with you meant not being with _anyone_."

He huffed a chuckle and shrugged. "Eh. We'll figure it out."

Chuck eyed him, both irritated by the chuckling and... something else. "We will, eh?"

Apparently, it was his turn to blush. "I mean... if you... I just meant--"

Snickering, the bastard elbowed him in the arm. "Climb down, mate. I'm definitely in."

His eyes narrowed. "Such an asshole."

"At least you're not surprised."

"Whatever. I'm hungry, and I gotta piss like you wouldn't believe." He licked at his teeth and winced. "And I'm pretty sure my breath has legs."

Laughing now -- and wasn't that a relief after all the uncomfortable angst and regret in that familiar voice on the video -- Chuck waved him away. "Go primp, Ray. I'm gonna give this another go, now that I'm not afraid of what that me might say about me."

Grinning, he sequestered himself in the bathroom and decided, fuck it, he needed a shower, too. His hair felt gross, and his toes still felt all cramped and sweaty. So, after a ridiculously long piss and brushing his teeth until he felt minty fresh enough for a good morning kiss, he slumped into the shower and blessed the steamy heat that both relaxed him and woke him up fully.

Sometimes, it was the little things that made life worth living.

It wasn't until he stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel that he realized he hadn't brought in any clothes. Grunting, he wondered if Chuck would be okay with him sneaking out in just a towel, then sneaking back into the bathroom again to change.

Fuck it.

He didn't expect Chuck to catch him at the door, shove him against the wall beside it, and try to climb inside his mouth tongue-first. Not that he was complaining, mind. He just... had nothing but a towel.

Maybe that's what convinced him to pull away just enough to gasp in a breath. "This is taking it slow?"

Chuck had already pressed in again, but that brought him up short enough to blink his eyes open and meet Raleigh's. This close, those bright greys were a veritable prism of color, and Raleigh found himself staring, fascinated.

Then, Chuck's big hand came up to touch his jaw. "I missed out on you once, mate. I won't take that chance again. If we fuck it up, we fuck it up, but it won't be because we didn't try."

The video. It had ripped Raleigh's heart out, but it had apparently done the opposite for Chuck. And when the clone -- or was he finally past such distinctions? -- kissed him again, he didn't hold back or hesitate. Because Chuck was right; they'd come too close to missing this to not have it now.

Besides, the big bastard tasted and felt too good to stop kissing now. Grunting, he tugged at that stupidly tight grey shirt until Chuck shrugged it off and tossed it aside. Unfortunately, Raleigh forgot to hold onto his towel, and when Chuck pressed him back against the wall again, the contact was overwhelming. The rough fabric of Chuck's trousers and the warm satin of his skin, the cold shock of the belt buckle against his belly, and Chuck's hands _everywhere_....

His morning wood was back. With a vengeance.

Grinding helplessly against the hard body crushing him, he moaned around Chuck's tongue in a wordless plea and clutched his fingers in that ginger hair. He didn't even know what he wanted. It had been so long that he just needed _something_.

Thank God, but Chuck seemed to know. Just as he was about to climb the bastard like a tree, one of those wandering hands dropped to his hip, then wedged in between them to wrap around his aching erection.

"Chuck... Chuck... I need--"

Uttering a wordless affirmation, Chuck gave him a long, glorious stroke that brought Raleigh up to his toes, his head jerking back against the wall almost hard enough to brain himself. However, for the first time in six months, potential brain damage was the furthest thing from his mind.

And then, Chuck bit hard at his lower lip, then dropped to his knees while the sting was still fresh and... oh, and....

"Chuck!"

Hot and wet and suction, and he would not last a full minute. Moaning helplessly, he rolled his head back against the wall and tried to make words happen while fisting his hands in Chuck's hair again.

"Gonna... can't... Chuck, please...."

The bastard _hummed_ , and Raleigh's knees threatened to drop him to the floor. If Chuck didn't have a deathgrip on his hips, he absolutely would have collapsed. That fucking _tongue_. It did things to his flesh that boggled the mind, and Chuck kept making those agonizing hums and groans around his length, and he could worry about his stamina later.

All he could do was tug at the ginger in his fists in warning, but Chuck didn't back off. In fact, the gorgeous asshole doubled down, taking him so far down his throat that Raleigh lost his breath and felt his hips jerk fruitlessly against that iron grip as he came so hard spots swirled in his vision. His legs were rubber, his spine jelly, and if that fucking tongue didn't stop tormenting him, he'd never be able to walk again.

"Chu-huuuck... yuh... you're... _fhhhuuck_...."

God, had the bastard sucked his brains out through his dick, or what?

And then, the jackass had the nerve to nuzzle his nose into the crease of his groin and thigh and rumble a chuckle. The low vibration sent shivers all through him, and his knees buckled enough that Chuck had to let him go at the hips and grab him under the arms to guide him down gently. He slumped to his knees and collapsed forward into welcoming arms with only enough sense to burrow his face into the stubbly warmth under Chuck's jaw.

"God, I missed that, Ray. I mean, I know I didn't actually... before... but...."

Blah blah fucking amazing whatever. He had to get his shit together. If the world made any kind of sense, Chuck had to be miserable still zipped up in his pants, and that was the last thing Raleigh wanted. If he could just get his damn arms to work, get some fine motor control in his fingers....

One hand gripped weakly at a heavily muscled thigh, and, at the touch, Chuck turned his head to nuzzle the sensitive skin behind Raleigh's ear. "Take your time, love. I can wait."

"Nnn." It wasn't much of a protest, but it got the point across. "Wanna do that. Give you that."

Chuck's chest hitched, the jaw Raleigh had sheltered under tightening. Groaning softly, Chuck tightened his arms around him. "You don't have to--"

Grunting, he sqeezed the thigh in his grip, pleased to feel his strength coming back. "Want to. Just... gimme a minute."

A gusty sigh tormented his ear and neck. "Ray, you're killing me here."

Blushing a little, he burrowed closer and smirked. "Then I'd better get a move on before you die on me a second time."

That big body stiffened, and Chuck pulled back with an incredulous grunt to stare at him, wide-eyed. "I'm not sure if I should be pissed at that or not."

Sleepy-eyed and grinning like an idiot, Raleigh could only shrug. "Too soon?"

Caught between appalled and reluctantly amused, the big, gorgeous ginger bastard narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Fucking wanker."

Not bothering to argue, Raleigh leaned forward and tilted his head for a kiss. Chuck somewhat grudgingly obliged, but it took a little while to tease that tongue back out. Of course, the second he did, he realized why. It tasted like him.

Fuck it. He didn't care. It tasted like Chuck, too, and that was more than good enough for him.

Humming a bit, he brushed his nose against Chuck's. "Can you get me over to the bed?"

One eyebrow rose. "That could be arranged. Got anything in mind?"

He dropped his voice to a whisper, his lips tickling as they brushed Chuck's with each word. "If you can get me over there, I can get on my knees for you."

A full-body shudder wracked that big frame. "Fuck, mate...."

Oh, so gently, he set his teeth in that full lower lip and tugged. "Getting there."

"Christ, Ray, you're gonna be the death of me."

"Maybe so." He chuckled low in his throat. "But not today."

Just like that, he was on his feet.


	11. Chapter 11

It didn't occur to him until he was on his knees, as promised, that he'd never actually done this before. In fact, he hadn't even thought about it. Hadn't _allowed_ himself to.

Luckily, the pleasant buzz of orgasm still hummed through him, and he decided he didn't care. He could wing it. He clearly knew what felt good.

Start small.

He'd never been this close to a man's naked thighs before. It should probably be awkward, but Chuck was all tight muscle and coiled grace and lean power, and Raleigh stroked his hands up from the knees to feel all that strength clench and flex. It was amazing. As was the reaction of the impressive erection between those glorious thighs.

If part of him had ever wondered if ignoring his interest in men had been easy because maybe he wasn't that interested after all, that part was completely swamped by exactly how much he wanted that. In his hands, in his mouth, _in him_.

He licked his lips and glanced up at the sharp intake of breath from above. Chuck stared down at him, open-mouthed and... rapt. There was no other word for the almost worshipful look on those familiar, somehow perfect features.

His breath sighed out of him, and he leaned forward to draw his nose up that amazing cock, breathing it in and savoring the scent. Chuck smelled good and comforting usually, but here, he smelled like desire, like need.

Raleigh's mouth watered, and he flicked out his tongue to taste. Humming softly, he immediately decided that one taste would never be enough, and as Chuck groaned and tensed, he opened wide and took in as much as he could. Honestly, it wasn't nearly as much as he wanted, but he did his best. He may not know what he was doing, but if Chuck's vocalizations and writhing against his grip were any indiction, his enthusiasm was getting the job done.

With the side effect of arousing him all over again. He couldn't help it. Chuck's abs flexed every time Raleigh bobbed his head, those glorious thighs bunching under his hands, the broad chest heaving and beginning to glisten with sweat. It was a goddamn gorgeous sight, and it didn't take long before he had to let go with one hand to reach down and give himself some relief.

A sudden buck of less-restrained hips drove Chuck further into his throat, and while he gagged a little, he didn't complain or even pull away.

"Rah... hnn... Raleigh... Ray... I need... _fuck_ , I need...."

God, he knew what Chuck needed, because he needed it, too. Fuck, he needed to _thrust_. But right now, he was pretty sure Chuck needed it more.

Groaning, he indulged in one more pass as deep as he could take it, sucking hard all the way back up and rubbing his tongue over the head a few times until Chuck cried out and gripped the sheets in a wad. Then, he reluctantly pulled off and surged up to take Chuck's mouth with his own, whining in his chest as his erection slid against Chuck's, which was still wet with his spit.

Brutally strong arms wrapped around him, and that fucking talented tongue writhed around his own. He struggled against the grip, no matter how good it felt, because he didn't want to just rub their cocks together until they both came, which wouldn't be long at this rate. He wanted more than that. Fuck, he _needed_ more than that.

He was pretty sure Chuck did, too.

Twisting and using a little more strength than might be necessary, just out of desperation, he broke the iron grip and shoved Chuck over onto his back, then rolled over him with the momentum until that big, gorgeous body weighed him down into the cot.

"Ray... love...?"

But he was right where he wanted to be, so he arched against all that bunching, flexing muscle and spread his legs to better hold it against him. "Need you."

Chuck shuddered, breath hot against his lips. "Are you su--"

Growling, he lunged up and kissed the big jerk so hard their teeth clacked together, shoving up further to reach the overhead shelf, hand searching blindly until it found the bottle of lube he'd only recently bothered opening. Hadn't had much use for it until now.

Thank God, but Chuck took the hint and squeezed some onto his fingers without breaking the almost brutal kiss. But where his kiss was all teeth and force and fire, his touch between Raleigh's legs was gentle and oh, so careful.

Probably a good thing because, as much as he wanted this, Raleigh couldn't help but tense up. No one had ever touched him there. It felt... weird.

But not wrong.

The kiss gentled but lost none of the passion, and Chuck took his time teasing around the puckered entrance until he relaxed and arched into the touch. Only then did one slick finger ease inside.

Oh. _Oh_.

"More."

Chuckling into his mouth, Chuck thrust with the single finger a few times, only then easing in another. It stretched, twinging with a hint of pain, but it felt... fuck, it felt... like he needed more.

"Chuck, please... _more_...."

That hot, hungry mouth devoured his own. "Don't wanna hurt you, love."

He moaned impatiently around Chuck's tongue and arched against him, begging with his whole body. Instead of giving him the cock burning against his thigh, the bastard twisted his fingers, thrusting further up, searching for God only knew what--

_"Fuck!!"_

Chuck shuddered even as he chuckled and touched that spot again, and Raleigh threw back his head and hollered hoarsely. If Chuck didn't stop doing that, he'd come again and be useless, and he didn't want that at all, but he couldn't have formed words if he had a gun to his head. All he could do was shove at Chuck's bulk with his legs until he could reach between them and grab a fistful of erection.

It was Chuck's turn to shout.

It would probably hurt. Chuck was built like a study in perfect proportions, and his cock was a thing of beauty, but Raleigh couldn't wait. He wanted to feel that impressive erection inside him, wanted Chuck out of control and thrusting like he'd die if he didn't come soon.

Guiding and stroking at the same time, he tried to edge Chuck in, only to whimper when the stubborn bastard still held back.

"Chuck, _please!_ "

"Fuck, Ray, just a sec-- ah! Wait a fucking second!"

It took an embarrassingly long time for Raleigh to realize that the hold-up was Chuck slicking himself up generously, likely in hopes of making up for the lack of preparation. Cock aching, feeling like he'd been on the verge of orgasm for an eternity, he arched helplessly, wanting it now, wanting it to burn. He might regret it later, but now, he just _needed_.

And Chuck... oh, thank God, but Chuck finally pressed just inside, his whole frame trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Raleigh... Raleigh... fuck, I...."

God, it felt like Chuck was trying to shove his whole body in there. It hurt worse than he expected, even when the head finally slipped all the way inside, easing some of the stretch right at the entrance, but he didn't flinch away. He could handle pain, and the reward was... Chuck's trembling and the combination of ecstasy and agony twisting his face as he tried to hold back and sink in further at the same time was... was...

... _fucking incredible_.

"Chuck... _more_...."

Heaving for breath, Chuck let his forehead drop to Raleigh's chest, that gorgeous body flexing as he worked in another inch. A noise Raleigh could only identify as keening squeezed out of his throat, and he wrapped his legs around Chuck's lean hips to pull him closer still. Another inch. Flex and groan, and another inch.

When the bastard tried to pull back, Raleigh only clung tighter and keened again, then let out a decadent moan as Chuck used the movement to shove even further inside, so close to bottoming out. Almost there, and oh, God in Heaven if there was one, but it felt fucking perfect. The ache, the burn, the _stretch_... he didn't want it to ever end.

Chuck pulled away again, and this time Raleigh let him go and was rewarded with a full-length thrust that buried Chuck to the hilt and hit every button Raleigh'd ever had. He was beyond full, beyond filled, and every nerve ending buzzed with the heat of it.

"Chuck...." It was a whisper so breathless no one could possibly hear it. "Chuck... God, Chuck...."

Another thrust, and big hands reached down to grab his ass and tilt his hips just so, and the next thrust pounded over the spot that sent a white-out of sensation through him, and his throat hurt with the force of his shout. He came hard and instantly, and if he had the capacity for thought, he'd be mortified by that fact, but his body's clench brought an answering shout from deep in Chuck's chest, and four hard thrusts later, Chuck came, too, the feel of it indescribable on top of the lingering blur of orgasm.

Chuck's grip was tight enough to hamper his breathing, but Raleigh didn't care. He clutched around those broad shoulders with all his might, his face buried in the curve of Chuck's throat, his legs so tight around the slim waist that he half-wondered if Chuck's toes were numb. Another throb of sensation clenched him inside and out, and Chuck gasped and jerked his hips, setting off another throb of near-orgasm.

Slowly, oh, so slowly, they came down from the heights, arms and legs relaxing to a more gentle hold without letting go entirely. Chuck shifted as if to roll away, but Raleigh made a non-verbal negative sound, and they settled again. After a long, gloriously comfortable silence, Raleigh began to stroke Chuck's back, fingers tracing the taut muscle there with new appreciation. Some day soon, he wanted to sit behind Chuck and kiss that muscle. There. And there. And especially there along the side, where his fingers made the big jerk flinch and huff a surprised laugh.

But for now, he just wanted this. Quiet. Closeness he hadn't realized he'd missed. Chuck's bulk reminding him that he was alive, they were both alive, and... they could have this. Somehow, against all odds, they could have this together.

Amazing.

His eyes drooped, and he wondered if he could actually go back to sleep like this.

"Ray?"

He blinked lazily. "Hn?"

After a moment, Chuck turned his face further into Raleigh's neck and grunted. "If you tell anyone I came that fast, I'll shave you bald in your sleep."

A laugh coughed out of him, and he tried to cock his head down and get a look at the blush that had to be blotting out the freckles, but Chuck determinedly kept his face hidden. The bastard.

Giving up, he pressed his lips to Chuck's temple and gave the jerk a squeeze around the shoulders. "Tell you what; if you promise not to tell anyone why I'm walking funny, we'll call it even."

And then Chuck was laughing, and all the movement made him slip out, and it was definitely time to clean up before the mess got any worse, and Raleigh loved it. Every second of it. Those cavernous, evil dimples, the twinkling, changeable eyes, the rumpled ginger hair, and the cocky smirk... that was all Chuck. Not Original Chuck, not Clone Chuck.

Just... Chuck.

Maybe the remaining brain damage was too severe for him to Drift anymore. Maybe they wouldn't be Drift compatible even if he could. Maybe the kaiju would come back in a year or five years or ten years, whether they had jaegers to pilot or not.

As he watched Chuck sit up in bed and swipe at some of the mess with an oddly prissy little moue on his face, Raleigh couldn't find it in himself to care one iota. He had what was important right in front of him.

And he wouldn't trade Just Chuck for all the Drifting and jaegers and kaiju kills in the world.

"C'mon then, ya lazy bastard. I'm not bringing you breakfast in bed."

His good mood and happy realizations unfazed, thanks to the glaringly obvious fondness in the gruff tone, he tried to frown. "But I'm still on medical leave."

Unimpressed, Chuck stood over him and crossed his arms, gloriously nude and in no apparent hurry to cover himself. Thank God.

"If I fix your tray, you're getting nothing but broccoli."

"That's cold."

"Oh, I'll make sure they cook it first."

His mouth twitched, but he refused to grin. Instead, he tried a new look, pouting and widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows just so. To his glee, all of Chuck's cocky good cheer vanished under a wave of concern.

Puppy eyes achieved.

"Oi, mate, I was just fucking with you."

But he couldn't hold onto the look, and it didn't help that Chuck went all wide-eyed before scowling and propping his fists on his hips.

"You learned the fucking puppy eyes. When the fuck did you-- Ray, that's not _fair!_ "

Snickering, he rolled out of bed and shifted at the uncomfortable feel of slickness and... well, just an overall weird feeling. He definitely needed another shower.

Totally worth it, though.

"Seriously, Ray, you can't just hit me with the puppy eyes like that. Give a bloke some warning, yeah?"

"What fun would that be?"

"Oi!"

Silencing the protest with a quick kiss, he slipped around Chuck's bulk, took one step toward the bathroom, then grinned and laid a righteous smack on that perfect ass. Chuck yelped and jumped away, but Raleigh was already on the run and beat him to the bathroom by an easy three paces.

"Raleigh Becket, don't you fucking shut that--"

The door slammed shut.

"Oh, no, you fucking didn't. Ray!"

He estimated the pounding on the door would start right about--

Sure enough, Chuck's big fist was already on the way when Raleigh opened the door with his most innocent, harmless expression. Startled, Chuck froze.

"Hey, Chuck?"

Blinking, the poor guy dropped his hand.

"You're adorable when you're pissed off."

Before Chuck could react, he leaned forward for a much more thorough kiss, pleased when Chuck returned it with interest.

"You are some kind of arsehole, mate." But he was grinning as he said it.

So Raleigh grinned back. "Your dimples say otherwise."

Blushing, the gorgeous bastard ducked his head and shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Hurry up with your primping, or you'll miss lunch, too."

The puppy eyes came back on their own. "No broccoli?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Jesus, tone it down. No broccoli."

Relieved, he grinned fondly at the man who had become just about everything to him in such a short time. Well, a short time that had apparently been six months in the making.

"You're a good man, Chuck Hansen."

A surprised but honestly pleased grin lit up that familiar face, bringing out dimples for days. "Think that's another thing the original me made up?"

Sighing, he leaned his forehead against Chuck's. "Pretty sure that was part of the programming all along."

They leaned together like that for a long time, and Raleigh did his best to savor every moment of it. A week ago, Herc had asked him if he believed in the soul, or if he thought a person was a construct that could be rebuilt over and over again from the same blueprint. Raleigh still had no answers there, but he was pretty sure he didn't need them.

As far as he was concerned, Chuck Hansen was just too damn stubborn to die without getting what he wanted.

And Raleigh? He was okay with that.

 _Everything_ was okay, and with his forehead resting against Chuck's, he figured okay had never felt so good.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I hope general enjoyment was had and that I made you laugh more than I made Chuck sad.


End file.
